The Phantom Of Disneyland Paris
by Arelya-Andaria
Summary: Modern Day, Alternate Universe - E/C - The Phantom has chosen to haunt the most famous theme park of Europe : Disneyland Paris. For years, he's been there, alone, quietly working behind the scenes to make it a great place of entertainment after long years of suffering. That's where he meets Christine Daaé, a lovely Cast Member with a voice beyond his wildest dreams... COMPLETE
1. 1 - The Legend of the Phantom

*-* The legend of the Phantom.

The Phantom was a well-known legend among the cast members. One whispered to the new comers both as a warning and a welcoming gesture.

_"One day, eventually, you will meet him. You see, he has eyes everywhere, and you will know if your work pleases him or not. Better be on your best behavior, for he will reward you if you perform well. If you don't, well… You will not last long."_

Some didn't care for the advice, and they were the first to run home and quit. This world, despite its magic and thrills, wasn't made for the weak hearted.

Those who cared admitted he always did a good job. Always rewarded faith and hard work. Be it money or gifts, the change of location they'd asked for months, or even promotions.

Another legend spoke of his voice. It could be beautiful and angelic, something otherworldly that they would never hear elsewhere. He often sang at night, and in the dark corners, his voice sometimes drowned out the ambient music. He did it as a reward, for everyone stopped working to hear his voice, the haunted beauty and longing they perceived. Most often, they heard him as a counter voice to the Bride of Phantom Manor, as if he was desperately looking for someone and couldn't find her. Their voices echoed around one another, never finding peace.

Those who didn't care for the story never thought twice when they heard his voice in the ride, as most guests were, but those attuned to its music could pay attention to its lonely ghost.

The oldest cast members swore he'd been here since the very beginning, always there, hiding, his presence nearly a comfort at times. No matter how great the changes, the turnover, the quitting and leaving, he was always there. Ready to please those who added magic to their world.

Some of them had tried to catch him, managers, directors, the ones in charge loathing the one who had the nerve to haunt a famed theme park known for its security measures, and disturb their wishes and actions for the park. But they all failed, for the Phantom was wise and cunning, and adept at hiding in the shadows, and there were plenty of them. He knew the field better than anyone else, and rumors said he had built it all, designed the famed rides and all the rest. He was as proficient in architecture as he was a skilled engineer and mechanic, with a talent for technology. And he knew how to use them to his advantage, either to drive away those he didn't like, or to reinforce his aura of power. Most of the time, he used them to improve the lives of the ones under his control, both the employees and the guests spending time in his beloved home.

All those who had tried once and professed their disbelief of him or disliked having to justify their decisions to a ghost were soon driven away.

But no matter who did well, or not, at the end of the day, the Phantom was alone to survey his domain, and he was beginning to doubt whether or not the situation would ever change. Unlike in his beloved stories, magic had yet to give him his happy ending. And truthfully, in his heart, he had never really believed he deserved one...


	2. 2 - A Meeting and a Song

Chapter 2: The Meeting and a Song

Our story starts one Christmas morning, when the park is still closed, and its first visitors braving the cold to stand at the doors, the night still thick and dark. The Phantom's favorite time to roam the park.

7:30, the first shift for the Guest Flows who are guarding the closed areas. Christine Daaé is working such a shift, one both liked for the early leaving time and hated for the ungodly hour they have to be on site.

She took the bus and went to change into her costume, and went to the base, the home of Main Street Operation, where the Guest Flows operate. She met her fellow unlucky colleagues, ready for the day, happy to finish early and be able to spend part of Christmas Day with their family.

She had no such luck.

The Flow 11 of the morning, coordinator of the morning, explained their tasks for the morning, gave them their instructions, and they're were off on stage.

She took her radio, her programs and maps, and with a final look to the mirror, she stepped on stage.

The guests wouldn't be arriving for another 30 minutes, and despite the earliness, this was a moment Christine enjoyed immensely. To be able to be there, very nearly alone with the park still calm and asleep, in the darkness and the lights of the season, was a privilege she was very much grateful for.

Her position was simple, and took very little brain power to begin with, with no one to talk to, and no guest to inform.

She took her position with a smile, and began to hum softly to herself, to help pass the time until the first morning guests would arrive.

* * *

Our Phantom was tired. His night had been eventful, with the aftermath of Christmas Eve and the sloppiness of the shows of the day. The casts in several of the shows had been missing a lot of their former energy lately, and he was anxious to have them return to their impeccable condition, and if he needed to threaten them a little, give them a little fright, then so be it. The grandeur of the park, and its reputation in the Entertainment world was worth it.

He was walking, deep in the shadows, avoiding the cameras as was his usual way, ready to go home and try to sleep at least a little before the first shows of the morning, when he heard her. Someone, a girl, a young woman, was singing softly. He nearly froze in his tracks, and paused to listen to her.

Her voice… There was something that called to him in her voice. Perhaps it was the small accent to her sentences, or the sadness that seemed to overwhelm her, or even the longing, for something else, deep and almost tangible.

She went on for the little while, walking slowly near the rope to soothe her legs, singing songs from the shows she'd heard the past two months, letting the sadness of it all flee from her so she could present her best smile for the guests.

He remained in the dark, listening, for all intent and purposes lost to the world. When she stopped, and the familiar announcement rang in all the park, to welcome all who came there, the dream was shattered, and he crept out to see who she was, that voice who sang of familiar sorrow and profound longing.

He saw her. She was small and lovely, with long reddish-brown curls, in the familiar red outfit of the guest flows, their black pants and boots, with their red jacket, scarves, hats and gloves. Her nose was pink from the cold, and she had the cutest face, tender eyes of deepest brown. Her name tag said "Christine".

With this information, he knew where she worked, what her name was, and he could see where she was going to be all throughout the day. It could be her name, or a borrowed one, it was always hard to know, especially in times like this, where so many cast members were new, called to help the year-long ones for the busy season. Anyway, with the planning, he could see if that name was her own, or not. It was simple enough to check, and the locations easy to follow.

All exhaustion had faded from his bones, and only determination remained : he had to know more about her.

And perhaps… Perhaps he could… Train her ? Her voice was good, but… It still needed a bit of training, and then… Then she'd be fit to be part of the greatest shows they were doing. She'd be the star, her voice and presence lighting the stages all around the park.

But these were dreams. No more than dreams.

For now.

He went to the base of the Guest flows, knowing that at that time, it would be empty ; all the managers and team leaders had gone out to help and see if everything was fine, and the other cast members were on stage, at their stations. The perfect time to go and have a look at the planning.

He quickly found the day and scanned the schedules of the team. It was her name, and she was here for the whole year, her contract an unlimited one. That, he'd also been afraid of. If she was only here for the holidays, then he'd have had no time at all with her, and his heart was already afraid of this perspective.

With her full name, and schedule in mind, he quickly stepped out of the base and into the shadows again, ready to follow her wherever she went.

* * *

The first guests had arrived, and she'd put a brave smile on her face, readied her stage persona, and started working. It didn't feel like a real job, even though she always put her best in the interactions with the people, always answering with a smile, and a kind word for the children. She loved it all, the way she helped direct a lost family to their first attraction, or told a distressed mother where the nearest toilets were, or brought magic in the eyes of the children as she explained the times of the parade and shows that could be seen throughout the parks that day, or where they could meet their favorite characters. Simple things, that most would find unsavory, no doubt, and useless, but she found a great pleasure in ensuring the guests had an easy way of getting the information they needed to spend the best day possible.

* * *

So he had her name and position, and he went back to the shadows, his Darth Vader mask and whole black costume in place. He could disable the cameras if he wanted, as tech-savy as the best of them, and often did so, but he still preferred the corners and dark corridors of the secret passages only he knew.

His energy back on full force, with her voice in his mind, he found a place to observe her. For the whole time she was there, in front of her rope, she was all smiles and warm, polite greetings, and he felt himself slowly but surely getting smitten with her. Her dedication, lovely smiles, and enthusiasm for the role she played, made him all warm inside, filling a void he'd thought would never be gone. But there she was, in the morning light, patient and brave and enduring, laughing and helping, her voice sweet and kind. He'd seen many good cast members, knew most of them were doing a fine job, but this one, oh this one… He didn't know exactly what, but she had something else. Something pure and refined. She belonged there, oh yes she did…

So he stood there, quietly, carefully watching her. Delighted in her presence.

And then, all too soon, it seemed, she had to leave, and he was reminded of the other jobs he had to do, shows he had to see, and letters to deliver. So he left, and promised himself to act.

She was special, her voice was special, and he had to know more. To see more.


	3. 3 - Infoguest, Lunch & Incidents

Chapter 3: InfoGuest, Lunch and the Phantom incidents

It was 10:00, the formal opening hour to all guests, and time to go back to the base for a well-earned 15-minutes break. Then she would be given her new position, maybe an infoguest near the station?

"Christine, and you Meg, you're to go to the station until 11:00, and then you'll have lunch. Come back afterwards and we'll see where you go, said Flow 11. Maybe you could help with the Christmas Parade."

She nodded, and waited for Meg to join her, and with radio and all the docs, they were off again, back on stage.

Infoguest was always a pleasant task: walking slowly around the station, refilling the maps and programs areas underneath the bridge, and helping guests, many of them looking for something at this point in the day, barely arriving and starting, some completely lost at their entry in the Magical Kingdom.

It was simple and always rewarding, Christine found.

And from that position, she could see her fellow Guest Flows preparing the ropes for the Christmas parade, slowly going in position. It wasn't until 11:50, but they were ready an hour in advance to warn the guests and prepare the field.

She would also be able to give a hand after her lunch, to help direct and advise. That was surely her favorite part of Guest Flow, helping the parade. It was intense and tiring work, and at times even difficult, to make people do what they didn't want to do, but it was necessary, and she found she was getting better at affirming herself in those jobs, really gaining self-confidence, for the shy and timid girl she was.

So far, her infoguest had been pleasant and uneventful. Every guest was caught in the joy of Christmas day, and the smiles had been easy to give and to maintain, and to obtain too. So she was smiling as well when she left the stage to go up to the stairs and into the restaurant for lunch. Usually, lunch and dinner were a noisy affair in the big tables of the Reds. But for this shift, she was nearly alone, and ate quietly with Meg. There, they could talk about their day, and the juicy gossip that DLP was very-well known for. And these days, something was on Meg's mind, and she had barely been able to wait until they were sat in a corner to tell Christine all she had learnt from her mother.

"The Phantom's been active again."

Christine stilled. As a Cast Member for a few years now, she'd heard about him, of course. The mischievous, haunting figure nobody ever saw, but who was rumored to help around and distribute favors and blames alike. But so far, she hadn't had to deal with him closely.

"What about him?" She asked. "How do you know?"

"You know my mom's with the shows and parades, right?"

"Yes, she's the choreographer for the dancing parts."

"She is! And well, there have been incidents happening these past few months, nothing important, you know, but small things. Missing bags, and dresses and costumes, mischief written on the mirror of the dressing areas, and, you won't believe it…"

"What?"

"The main singer of the show, you know, that Carlotta girl, who can't sing a tune to save her life, she's received a threatening letter, two days ago. The Phantom signed it."

Christine sighed.

"As usual, nobody knows how the letter arrived. The cameras haven't given anything to work with, and the whole EPC is getting frightened of getting on the Phantom's bad side.

"They shouldn't worry. After all, nothing bad has truly happened, right?"

"You may not remember, but a few years ago, it got pretty bad. My mom told me about it, a certain Joseph who had repeatedly shown up drunk, but they hadn't been able to get him to leave. So the Phantom took care of him."

A chill ran down her spine.

"What happened to him?"

"He would never tell, but he was so frightened he left in a hurry, not even complaining to his team leaders. Now they're afraid the Phantom will start something like that again."

"He deserved it, in a way, right?"

"Yes… But you never know, he may be watching each of us… And my mom… She's told me this morning that yesterday, Carlotta had the worst bad luck of all. Her mic wasn't working, her dress had been switched for another one, two sizes too small, and a prop nearly fell down on her during her big "Let it go" part. She was furious and nearly in tears when it was over, and she swore she would never come back to work in an environment like this."

"What do you mean? She won't be working?"

"She has an understudy, of course, so someone can replace her for today, and tomorrow, but afterwards, if she doesn't come back, they'll have to cancel the shows. They can't make the other one work for a whole week."

"That's awful! What are they going to do then?"

"Well, Mom says they'll be able to convince Carlotta to come back, but she doesn't believe they will succeed. These incidents, plus the letter, it's a lot to take."

Christine sighed, as she finished her plate. These shows weren't the best she'd seen, but the kids loved them dearly, and the theater was always full these days. If they were all cancelled, she didn't dare imagine what complaints they were going to have on their hands. And most, of course, would fall on her team, as she'd be on the shows after she came back from her off days, and one close shift, to deal with the unhappy guests.

"I guess we'll see what happens then."

And then they stood to go back on stage, their lunch break nearly over.

Back at the base, Flow 11 told them they'd go help the parade, with the big crowds, their team was going to need all the help they could get.

So they hurried onstage, near the hub, in front of the castle, and started clearing the way for the coming parade.

The rush of it all always made Christine feel alive, everything could happen so quickly, and you never knew what to expect.

The parade came and went, a success, as usual, without incidents, and she waited for the second one to arrive, and then the third one.

2:00, and she was nearing the end of her shift. For the last 45 minutes, she went to help the roll out for the big, 5:00 parade.

And then it was done. She logged out, along with Meg, and they went back to Ima, the building where they could change into their civilian clothes. In her locker, though, she was startled to find a letter with her name written on it, in a nice, elegant red script. Without thinking, she hid it into her bag, so that Meg wouldn't see it, and finished changing.

Meg stretched, next to her.

"Would you like to come home with me? Mom's off today, and she planned to have dinner, the three of us."

She shook her head.

"Thanks, but I'm rather tired, and I'd like to go home."

"Alright, as you wish. Text me if you change your mind."

"I will."

They put their costumes into the laundry drop off bag, and went back to the station to catch their bus, chatting softly.

They hugged goodbye and Merry Christmas when they stepped off the bus, and went their separate ways. Christine went home, put off her coat, gloves and scarf, and with shaking hands, took out the letter.

She sat down at the kitchen counter, and began reading:

_Dearest Christine,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know I'm rather forward with this, but I saw you today, and wanted to compliment you. You are a great Cast Member, and the Reds are lucky to have you within their ranks. However, I heard your voice, as well, and… I can't help thinking you might find greater roles for you here, should you wish for it._

_I felt the pain you hid, in your song, and couldn't help but feel a connection. I want to help you develop your voice, and your presence on stage. Would you consider meeting me to see if my feelings are true? Please be backstage, near your base, tonight, at midnight, and I'll meet you there. If you don't, I won't bother you again._

_In the hopes of seeing you,_

_E._

She read the letter, once, twice, three times, and by the end, her eyes shone with tears. She had never gotten compliments until today, and despite the rather strange wording, and the knowledge she'd been spied on, and a lot, to know where her locker was, she felt curious about this strange person who heard her sing and saw her act.

She knew it was crazy, and all the safety measures she'd always heard explicitly said never to do this, but her instincts urged her to give in, to see what it was about.

And so she planned to meet him.

It was a he, she was sure of it. Or she hoped it would be so?

She had an explanation ready, should they question her presence near Ima, that evening, knew the comings and goings of the people who knew her and would notice she wasn't where she was supposed to be, but she had her pass, and went to spend the evening on stage, as a usual guest. With her scarf and hat, her face nearly fully hidden from both sight and cold, nobody would even recognize her, except for the one who wanted to meet her.

At 10:20, after the end of the evening show, she avoided her colleagues and stayed at the front of the castle, looking as much the fan as she could be, to avoid detection. And then she went backstage, near the toilets, to wait until the others had departed.


	4. 4 - The Offer

Chapter 4 - The Offer

The Phantom was anxious. Finding her locker had been easy enough, and putting the letter inside a simple matter of bribing someone to do it. But he had watched her discreetly then, saw her finding it and putting it into her bag. He had seen her hiding it from her friend, and leaving to go home. He hadn't dared follow her outside the parks, for it wasn't his domain, but he hoped, he so hoped she would accept and come to see him.

He knew his chances were small, but nonetheless, he hoped, sitting on his comfy sofa in his secret room in front of the castle, overlooking the hub, waiting for the show to start.

He had helped design it, a few years ago, given many ideas and technical tools, and enjoyed hearing the applause of the guests as it ended, the wonder and joy in their cheers as the fireworks lit the sky, and it brought tears to his eyes, to know that they may never know it, but He, and He alone, was at the root of so many of their fondest memories.

Tonight was no exception. His heart was empty, but tonight, as Tinkerbell lit up the star at the top of his castle, he felt it soar with the hope that maybe, later this evening, his dearest wish might come true.

Maybe he wouldn't feel so alone anymore.

* * *

There. The night crew would soon arrive, and she stayed in the shadows, to wait for the "E" that had called to her. It was most unwise, she knew that, but she couldn't help herself. After all, nothing bad would happen, now, would it ? With all the cameras around, she was quite safe. And just in case, she'd left her letter and a note on her kitchen table, so that Meg knew what had happened should she fail to answer her, as she had the keys to her flat.

The night was cold, but the sky was clear and moonless, and the stars shone far away. She stepped out, five minutes to midnight, to wait for the one who'd called upon her. She didn't know what to expect, who would be there in the shadows. He was working here, that she knew, he wasn't new, either, and might belong to her team, but there was no one she knew that could fill that description, so she waited, heart beating fast, her breath puffing white in the cold air.

The music was still on, from the Main Street just behind the "Cast Members only" door, and even though she strained her ears, she couldn't hear the soft steps of the dark figure coming.

He was there, over her, in the shadows.

She'd come. He hadn't dared believe it, but she was there. Waiting for him. Now that it was done, he found his voice might fail him. He had rehearsed a few speeches, to say to her, but no words would come out.

He took a deep breath, trying to slow his beating heart, and slowly, gently, he spoke in the darkness.

"You came."

It startled her again. The voice was smooth, deep and low, and she couldn't see from where it came. She looked around, trying to sense the presence behind the voice, but she couldn't see anyone.

"I… I did. Who are you? What do you want? Show yourself!"

"Who I am is not important."

She didn't dare raise her voice too much, fearing to be overheard, but the voice seemed to come from near her ears. And yet, what he said made her blood boiling. After what he'd demanded she did, and asking her to come, he dared refuse to reveal such simple information.

"Then I should leave," she said, her voice cold.

"Please don't… Trust me. _Christine…_"

The voice was pleading, now, soft and desperate.

Despite her mind telling her it was a mistake, she wanted to know more. She wanted to keep listening to that voice.

"Then why have you sent me this letter? Why am I here?"

"I want to help you. You have a wonderful, strong voice. I… I could help you strengthen it. Make it soar and dazzle the world."

She laughed softly, and a bit bitterly.

"That path was closed for me a long time ago. I couldn't do it. Why should I trust what you say? You've barely listened to me."

"You have no reason to trust me, but I am a great musician, and I know a good voice when I hear one. You have an amazing potential, and with work, you could make it true. Haven't you dreamt of starring in the shows you usher the crowds in?"

"I… It's too hard…"

She had no idea why she didn't refuse outright. He had no reason to fill her head with the dreams and hopes she'd banished when her parents had died, when they had wanted her to be the princess in the shows they'd seen. Now she was glad to remain in the shadows, unseen.

"I don't want to be in the light", she whispered. "I enjoy working away from that world."

"Then don't. But your voice… It'd be a crime not to work on it…"

That voice, despite her reserve, spoke to her, fueled a desire she'd long buried within her heart.

"Please," he whispered again. "Let me help you… I can feel you want it desperately."

Tears she hadn't known were there fell from her eyes, and the pain and despair she'd spent the day keeping at bay overwhelmed her, and great sobs began shaking her body. She wanted to believe him. Oh, she wanted it so much. To feel the joy and relief of singing again, to see the praise in her parents' eyes, when she did. She'd missed it. And damn it all, if it took a bodiless voice to do it, then so be it.

"Alright," she said after a while, drying her tears, when she could trust her voice not to display her breaking moment. "What should I do?"

He closed his eyes. He'd done it. She believed him. She wanted him to help her. Now he had only to close the deal.

"We'll begin tomorrow, if you'd like. Come to the castle, after the Dreams show. I'll be there."

"In body, as well?"

He laughed softly, a retort ready on his lips.

"Isn't my voice pleasing enough?"

He had few assets, but he knew he could rely on his voice, and its attractive tone.

She smiled in the darkness, and answered, feeling less shy to admit it without anyone to see her:

"It is. It'll be enough, for now."

So they seemed to have reached a truce. An understanding. She'd agreed to his lessons, to let him have his secrets, but in time, she would have to know.

"Fair enough. Until tomorrow, then, my dear."

He couldn't escape the endearment falling from his lips. She was too naïve, too trusting for her own good. And yet, he couldn't begin to regret it, and doubt himself. Tomorrow would never come fast enough.

She smiled, as well, feeling a small blush on her cheeks, hoping the darkness hid it from him, wherever he could be. He'd called her his dear. It didn't feel too much, or condescending. She couldn't believe how so small a thing could send such hope and care into her heart.

Was this the angel she'd been hoping for? Had the stars finally granted her wish?

She looked up at the stars, feeling him leaving her, and crept to the shadows to leave the park. The buses had stopped for the night, and she had to come home on foot.

She didn't mind, though, as it left her time to think about it.

Soon her brain caught up with her heart, and she chastised herself for having blindly agreed to his lessons. But strangely enough, she felt safe with that voice. She'd go on protecting herself, with the pepper spray that never left her, and leaving notes for her friends to find, should she go missing, but he was only a voice, and a voice couldn't harm her. After all, nobody could say more hurtful things than she'd herself thought.

So she came home, and went to sleep. In her dreams, for the first time in years, she sang.


	5. 5 - Lesson Number One

Chapter 5: Lesson Number One

The night proved long and annoying for the Phantom. The lightness his talk with Christine had brought to his mood was soon shattered by the distressing news he'd had, from the missing lights on several buildings of Main Street, which gave the whole street an uncared for feeling, to the complaints of the guests from the meals served in some of the supposedly best restaurants in the parks, which would have to be soon visited to see who was responsible for this unseemly behavior, to, of course, some problems with the dancing teams of the parade today. Because of the harsh conditions, surely, some hadn't performed to their usual standards, and he would see to it that they understood how critical it was, and how displeased he was.

To their luck, the night crew was efficient and well organized, and he had very little to criticize after he'd dealt with the day problems, and he came back to his home under Phantom Manor at 4:00, finding sleep avoiding him. His head was filled with her voice, and new songs and ideas for shows danced in his mind. The summer season hadn't been completely designed yet, and he could still change a few things to take into account his new found protégée. By summer, if they worked well, she could do well enough to be cast into these shows, and he could make her see how great she could do, on stage.

But he had a more pressing concern. Despite his wishes, Carlotta hadn't resigned from her position in the Winter Frozen Show, and so he'd have to bear her shrills and high-pitched cries for the remainder of the season. Thankfully, it was nearly over.

Unable to sleep, he went up and sat down at the piano, where he let his fingers fly over the keys, eyes closed, inspiration slowly filling him with new melodies. He composed until even he couldn't bear it anymore, and walked over to the bed, finally sleeping.

The next morning, Christine woke up late, lazily relaxing in bed and on her computer, catching up on sleep and some reading she'd planned to do. And yet, she couldn't fully relax, her mind set on reminding her of her lessons with him. "E". What could it stand for? Lessons, near the castle. Why not the Simba building, where most of the rehearsal took place for the different shows? At that time, surely no one was around. She knew he must be some higher up cast member, surely a manger or something, to be able to do what he did without problems. But then why couldn't he make it something more official-looking? As if he wanted to keep her his dirty secret…

Finally, after a meager lunch, she got ready and took the bus back to the park. She walked around, lost in the crowds of the busy season, trying to distract her mind from the upcoming meeting.

Would he still keep to the shadows, and remain a voice? Would he show himself, to teach her? Where would they even go? They couldn't rehearse in the open, with the cold and the noise, could they?

She watched the performances of the lighting of the Christmas tree, surely the one show her heart most loathed, as it reminded her keenly of the absence of the ones she'd lost, and how time could never quite fill the void inside her.

She didn't eat, her stomach empty. Food didn't sustain her as it used to. When it was time, she sat down on a bench in front of the castle, content to sit and wait for the Dreams show. Her parents would have loved it, she knew that. Despite her sadness, it always managed to lift her heart, to make her forget, however briefly, what had happened, and to remind her that hope and kindness, and courage, could be the keys to the happy ending she so wished for.

She always let herself cry when she was a guest, knowing nobody would disturb her, and tonight was no exception.

She sobbed quietly, watching the lanterns of the Tangled part fly up the castle, and the music soar to its sweet ending, until the next part, for the villains began. Her heart ached.

* * *

He'd seen her come and sit down to watch the shows. She seemed as much as a fan of the parks as he'd ever seen a cast member be, coming early and letting her heart be filled with the emotions. He'd seen her cry then, and it nearly made him cry as well, to see her cheeks stained with tears. How he longed to caress her skin and dry these tears, to make her pain go away. How he knew what she was feeling, too.

In that show, he'd poured all his hopes and dreams of a better ending, of love and happiness, even if for him, it had never worked out.

The villains part, however, showed the darkness of his soul, the extremes he would go to, to achieve his destiny, his great plans for that place he so dearly loved, for his home.

And yet, good prevailed, Peter Pan saved the day, and Tinkerbell brought back magic to make everyone fly. A metaphor, to let his past behind, to let love soar and save his heart. So far, it hadn't happened. But tonight, tonight would be the start of a different story.

Tonight, he'd see if her voice had truly enchanted him, as his namesake had been in the Little Mermaid.

* * *

As usual, the ending left her in tears, and she quietly dried them as she waited for the people to leave. She knew she'd have to leave at some point, to hide in the shadows before someone could ask her what she was doing, but she wanted to remain here for a little while longer, trying to hold onto that feeling that show always gave her. Some courage, and hope.

Finally the crowds began to clear, the last people wanting to linger to have the "alone in front of the castle" part slowly leaving. The cast members from the custodial team and the reds left as well, eager to come home and let the night crew replace them. She had gone backstage then, hiding until it was safe to come out.

Nobody would be there for another 30 minutes, as the park was declared clear of guests, and the yellow coats appeared on the jackets of the last day cast members, leaving as well. She crept out, and on stage, in front of the castle, keeping to the shadows as much as she could, her eyes trying to see who would approach, or if only his voice would appear.

"Good evening, my dear," the voice said softly, startling her again.

"Hello."

She turned around, but no, she was quite alone, _again._

"Are you ready to begin your lesson?"

"I am, but I dare hope we won't be doing it here?"

He chuckled, a deep sound that sent shivers down her spine.

"No, we won't. I have a music room nearby."

"A music room? Here?"

"Go near the waterfall, by the side of the castle."

She did as he asked, the voice seemingly following her and giving instructions.

"Good, now, put your hand on that stone. Yes, that one. Push."

She held her breath. There, next to the entrance of the dragon's lair, was a hidden door. It was dark inside, and after a few feet a small flight of stairs was winding down.

"Go inside, and down the stairs."

She went down, the door closing behind her, and a few lanterns lit up the way. Then she found herself in another corridor, a few doors lining up, leading to other corridors. It was a real maze, she thought, and without his instructions, she would have been easily lost.

But she ended up in a small room, with a piano, and several sheets of music. The acoustics, despite the appearance of the room, bare and stone, were quite good, and she thought her voice might do nicely here. There were no windows, of course, and she knew she was underground, probably near the Frontierland part of the park, because of the direction she'd taken, but she couldn't be sure.

"Now, my dear, we'll try a few warm-up notes, shall we?"

She nodded, aware that even though she couldn't see him, he was watching her, and could see her body language.

"Good. Let me hear you."

She felt shy, so shy, and self-conscious, to sing like this, even if only a voice was hearing her. Her first tries were quiet and a poor effort, but he didn't criticize her for it, trying instead to let her be at ease.

"Now, my dear, no need to feel so anxious. Close your eyes, and imagine you're alone, at home. There is nobody to hear you, nobody to judge you. The music soars around you, and you're letting your voice fly as well."

She did as he suggested, closing her eyes, dropping her shoulders, and began to hum softly.

"Good, good, now stand up straighter. Yes, like this. Shoulders back, a bit more, yes, and… Face up, yes, that's good."

Slowly, she began to relax, her voice going up some scales, lightly, until she broke as she reached the higher notes. And the shyness returned.

"It's quite alright, to be a bit rusty, dear, now start again, open your mouth, and push on your stomach, to get the sound out, relax your throat."

She started again, emboldened by his advice, and there she was, scaling the notes easily, up and then down again.

"Lovely, perfectly lovely. How about we try a song, yes?"

"Is there anything you have in mind?" she asked, unsure of what she wanted to sing.

"There are several I'd like us to try, but feel free to choose the one you like best, on the piano."

She approached the instrument, stunned when she found what he had prepared for her. The songs were all some of her favorites, the ones she'd always loved, but had not sung in while, despising the way her voice had cracked on the higher notes, and the poor phrasing she sometimes had.

"How about… This one?"

* * *

When she'd started to sing, even to hum ever so softly, he felt her take his heart, then and there. Her voice was the loveliest, purest sound he'd ever heard. She was worthy of the greatest concert halls, and to have her here, people would come from far and wide to hear her perform.

She seemed so unsure of herself, though, so shy, he had to comfort her. And so he had, and he'd heard the rewards swiftly follow. Her voice, when she sang, nearly brought him to his knees, and he fought to remain calm and his voice steady. He praised her, feeling she had a great need for it, unable to recognize how well she could perform.

Her posture was good, a little off at times, and her throat sometimes squeezed the sound, but that was just her nerves, he was sure of it. With practice, she'd let it out pure and whole, her voice a warm balm on his broken soul.

He knew, he just knew the talent he'd just found. She was a rough diamond, and with the barest of cutting, she'd be dazzling everyone. And he was desperate to hear her more. So he asked for a song.

She hesitated, clearly not expecting to be asked to choose, but she did, nonetheless. It was an arrangement of the songs he felt would best showcase the warmth and depth of her voice, and to give her the reassurance she needed, for her to know she was able to do it, to give it justice.

So she chose, and began singing. At first, her voice sounded unsure, again, soft and small, and he had her try again, repeating the sentence and adding a little more strength to her tone, fitting the lyrics, but with more confidence.

She tried again, filled with a new-found need to please him, to please this voice that cajoled her and praised her, giving it all for him, and for herself as well, as her voice began to take flight, no longer unsure of her power, but instead getting stronger and more in control. Slowly, as the song began to grow more powerful and loud, her voice as well followed, and she was no longer afraid of her voice breaking, of her sounding off, as she opened her eyes and let her heart out, finishing powerfully on the last note, holding it as long as she could, out of breath, but feeling strangely back into her own body, mistress of herself. As if something inside herself had finally been unleashed.

She noticed then, in the growing silence, that her cheeks were once more filled with tears. She quickly wiped them away, praying he hadn't seen them.

* * *

He had no words. She had blown him away, very simply. When at first she'd felt unsure and quiet, she'd grown into the song, and her final chorus had been, by anyone's standard, possibly the best way he'd ever heard the song sound. So powerful, so deep and meaningful. He had been crying, too, when she finished.

He watched her in the silence, unable and unwilling to break the spell he was under. Unwilling to send her away after this.

He'd felt everything she'd poured into her voice, her song : her sorrow, her hopes, her despair, and the fierceness, the pure joy of being alive and will to fight, and his heart had ached to join her, to let her see into his soul, the way she'd showed hers. But he didn't dare. Not now that she felt confident enough to bare her soul to him. He wouldn't shatter the spell and connection between us.

As if a link had been created, right there and then, uniting them in their love of music and song.

* * *

Her breathing finally slowed, and the silence began to grow stressful. Why was he still silent? Had she been so terrible he'd left?

"Are… Are you still here?" she asked slowly.

"Yes," he breathed.

He seemed shaken, out of breath.

"You were quite good," he finally said.

Oh. _Quite good_, huh? She didn't let the disappointment she felt at his words show on her face. Not now that she felt she'd reclaimed her voice and part of her body she'd thought was gone forever after her parents' death.

"I think you worked enough for tonight, my dear. We'll resume our lessons another time."

Now her disappointment grew worse. Was he already tired of her?

"Already?"

She didn't mean to say that, but the words escaped her before she had time to rethink them.

He chuckled again, his voice warm and comforting.

"You mustn't strain your voice, my dear. This song was challenging, and you did well. You deserve a good night's rest, and I'm afraid it's already midnight."

She looked at her watch, and, true enough, they'd spent an hour and a half in these dark corridors and that room.

"Then when will we go on?"

"Tomorrow night, same time? I trust you'll know the way, now. If not, I shall guide you to this room."

"Yes."

She couldn't wait to start again.

"Then goodnight, my dear, and have a safe trip home."

"Thank you."

Unknown to her, he followed her to the surface, watched her go backstage again and leave his domain, and his heart left with her as well.

Tomorrow, they'd go on.

Her voice accompanied him wherever he went, that evening, his mind a little bit away from the problems they'd had today, his mood lighter than it'd been earlier.

He wasn't even disappointed when Carlotta resumed her post, and the sloppy kitchen hands had still burnt and mixed up part of the orders, and the rude cast member from Space Mountain had another complaint on his hands. Instead, he went home, back to his piano, and let the music she'd inspired in him take wings.

* * *

Her heart was beating fast every step of the way she had as she walked home, her mind filled with his voice, and the way she'd felt, singing for him. It was as if part of her had been uncovered, hidden and buried for years, and she'd finally found it again. She smiled, as she sang again, alone in the dark, alone under the moonless sky, the stars for only witnesses.

She thanked her instincts, for having steered her right, and she went home and to bed, a new-found joy in her heart and spring in her steps.

Her dreams, that night, gave the voice a body and she found herself wishing, again, that soon she'd meet the one who'd given her her voice again.

* * *

_To my dear readers and reviewers, thank you! I hope you enjoy reading, and don't fear, the story is mostly written and I intend to finish it =)_


	6. 6 - Duet & Questions

The next day, she woke up refreshed and with a song in her heart, and time couldn't fly by fast enough. She arrived in the park earlier than ever, not even watching the show, but instead finding the secret door and following her heart to the music room.

He'd been occupied the whole day, trying to distract himself from the coming lesson, but found himself unable to concentrate a lot. When he noticed her coming to his secret door, a whole hour early, he hurried to the music room to help her find her way inside the secret maze, but found she didn't need him. He guessed her sense of orientation was better than he'd given her credit for.

When she was inside, though, her hands started sweating. She was an hour early, and didn't expect him to be there. After all, he must have had things to do, right? But she tried, nonetheless.

"Are you there?"

Argh, she really needed a name for him, she couldn't keep calling him the voice, after all.

"I'm here, my dear. Though, I must say I didn't expect you to be so early."

"And… What should I call you? I'd… Really like a name, or anything. It's okay if you won't tell me your real name, but… You're not just a voice, so…"

She felt the small smile in his voice when he answered:

"Call me whatever you wish, my dear. I'll answer either way."

She thought about it, for a while, pondering what names she'd like to give him, what names would best fit what she knew and felt from him.

And yet, despite the surely better fits, one kept urging her.

"Angel."

He startled, for once.

"What did you call me?"

"Angel," she repeated, now unsure of her choice. "I mean, I'm not religious, or anything, but… It fits you, the voice helping me be my greater self, like a guardian angel. So Angel it is. Unless… You'd rather not?"

He was speechless, for a while. This… This child, this young woman, whom he'd spied on, whom he began feeling much more than he ever should, wanted to call him her angel?

"If you wish it, then so will I be your Angel."

_Her Angel_… She liked the sound of that very much.

"Shall we begin, then, Angel?" she asked, smiling.

"Let's warm up your voice, my dear."

And so she began.

* * *

After this second lesson, they started meeting every day. They always met in the music room, the bodiless voice and the young singer. He always seemed to be there when she arrived early, and never said anything when she was late, as her shifts sometimes made her stay longer than she'd planned. The Christmas season finally ended, and the busy crowds disappeared, leaving the parks breathe again. Christine had more time to spend on her singing, and soon grew confident and comfortable enough to ask more of the voice.

Despite that, of course, she didn't dare talk about him with anyone, not even Meg, her best friend, even though she'd told her she had singing lessons every day, to explain how little free time she now had. Meg didn't press her, feeling her friend didn't want to reveal more about these lessons, and instead took pleasure in seeing how different Christine now seemed. She looked happier, healthier, and more confident, too. She hadn't seen her look like this since before her parents died, and she was thrilled to see her begin to bloom once again.

Winter finally gave way to spring, and the new season began.

The Phantom hadn't wanted her to try out for the new singing roles, feeling she wasn't quite ready yet to perform in front of a crowd. She would need something smaller to get a feel of what it could be like. But so far, she sang beyond his wildest expectations. She was so good, her emotions so complex and deep, her voice so strong and soft at all the right moments, her phrasing perfect and smooth, her breathing relaxed and stance poised. Truly, when she started singing, it was as if there could never be a single cloud in his sky. As if the rain was never even a possibility, in his world where she was the shining sun and radiant moon combined.

He loved her, that he knew, now, so fiercely and tenderly he could barely bear her absences, but he used it to fuel his imagination, the inspiration she gave him greater than anything he'd ever felt before.

He knew it could never be more than that, though, her lessons with a voice. He could never reveal himself, for if she knew who he was, she'd turn away from him forever. And that was a thought he couldn't bear.

And yet, she had never asked for more. She seemed perfectly content to have her lessons with him, only ever just a voice, despite how much curiosity she must have had. Some days, she managed to squeeze a bit of information out of him, sensing his mood, through his voice, learning to read into his silences and the tone of his voice.

She was curious, yes, to know him, but had guessed he was a very private person, and surely didn't want to distract her, or make her afraid of him. She only hoped that one day he felt comfortable enough with her to reveal who he was.

Her dreams, and wishes to the stars, now, asked for more knowledge about that man she'd come to adore.

Summer came, and with it, the new faces in the team. She still loved her job very much, and enjoyed using her new found confidence and the strength of her voice to a greater effect. Her Team leaders and colleagues had all noticed the changes and had praised her for it. She was beginning to be one of the pillars of the team, one who would be tasked with training the new ones, and so one day, she was paired with a young man she was sure she knew, from long ago, but couldn't quite place. He was shy and curious about everything, and hadn't paid her much attention, until that day she had to train him.

She had a close shift, and had to train him for the parade, for one of the hardest crossings. There were several things to remember, special cues to look for, the radio to pay special attention to, and of course, as with all crossings, one to always, always manage well, no matter how big and intense the crowd. He seemed so shy, she was beginning to doubt he would do the job right, despite her instructions. But she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, as he seemed to want to do right by her.

Also, she noticed, with deepening fear and sadness, that her colleague was starting to get smitten with her, and she had no place for him in her heart, and no will to complicate her job by starting a relationship with someone in her team.

When the parade was over, she was quite relieved, he'd done well enough for a first time, and his smile, so carefree and happy, finally allowed her to place his face. He was Raoul, her childhood friend. They'd spent a few summers together, when her parents were still alive. She'd had a crush on him at some point, with his lovely smile and tender eyes. But then everything had changed and it'd been ten long years since she'd last seen him.

After debriefing the parade, they had infoguest together, and she found the courage to ask him:

"We met before, right ? You're the one who brought me my scarf back from the sea."

"I was wondering when you'd remember. It's nice to see you so happy and thriving, after your loss."

"Well, I've found my place, it seems."

"For it, I'm glad. You deserve to be happy."

They were then interrupted, someone wanted to know when the evening show would be. She wanted to let him answer, but when his answer took too long to come, she replied with a smile.

He didn't seem happy about it, but she said nothing as they were questioned more. They barely extracted themselves from the crowds in time to go to lunch, which was more dinner, considering the time, and joined the rest of the reds on their big table. It was noisy, but the atmosphere always gave her heart. It was her newfound family, and she was always grateful for the place she'd found. Ever since her parents' death, she'd felt alive, and here, among this team, she felt like she belonged.

The remainder of the day was quickly gone, getting to work the nighttime show from the command hill, one of her favorite places.

Especially on an evening like this, warm and cloudless. The crowd hadn't been bad earlier in the day, so she had hopes they wouldn't get out of control tonight, and she could focus less on making sure there were nobody on the fences and more on the show. With the summer season, one scene had changed, and it was a guests' favorite, and one of hers too, so she really enjoyed watching it as part of her job.

And later, she had her lesson, and her heart was already happily anticipating it, the lyrics from their latest rehearsal on her lips, as she waited for the show to start. The waiting part, was always the hardest one, too. She was just as the guests, eager for it to begin, delighting in the warmth of the air.

* * *

The past few months had been a breeze for the Phantom. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt so… _Not_ unhappy, in his life, even when he'd first found that place, even when he'd begun to put his grain of salt in the decisions taken in the park. Ever since he'd met her, and taught her, it was as if somehow his sky had lightened, and the burden on his shoulders had lessened.

She seemed so happy with just her singing, he hadn't wanted to ask more of her now, not asking to perform in the summer shows, even though she very clearly now could outperform the ones they did cast. And, in his heart, he feared that should he push her, she'd turn away from him, having gotten what he said he'd wanted, at first, for her voice to get stronger and better.

And he didn't want that. Hell, he wasn't sure he could even bear to be separated from her now, having grown used to speaking with her, to meeting with her every day, to hear her voice, her beautiful, powerful, clear voice ringing in his ears, in the walls of his small music room.

So he was content to let her be, inside knowing there was a clock he wasn't sure he could ever quiet. He'd been the prince of the Mermaid, and now he felt like Hook, fearing a bit more every day to hear the tick tock of the crocodile, signaling his time with her had run out.

And there he was, the crocodile. That new boy on her team. He'd watched her, of course, during the making of the parade, as she trained that shy and smiling boy. Honestly, he hadn't even done a bad job, for his first time, but something about him had made his skin crawl. He would have hissed, hadn't he controlled himself. He saw the looks he'd given her, the way his body language made it clear he was interested in her, and that made the phantom's blood boil. How dare he court her, his trainer, the one more experienced, in his own team! How dare he covet what wasn't his to take?

He couldn't even watch the evening show, so angry for that he went back to his room to wait for her, and try to calm down. She hadn't given the boy any hopes, had remained friendly but professional, and hadn't seemed interested. But who knew what would happen, if they worked together more often?

The thought brought him more despair than he'd believed it would.

* * *

When she arrived in the room, after the show ended and the crowds had thinned, she sensed something wasn't quite right. His voice had the littlest cold air about him.

"Angel?" She asked. "Is there something wrong? You seem… Rather angry."

He didn't answer straight away, though, as he usually did.

"Yes, you are angry. Did I do something wrong? Is there something else you'd like to tell me? Is my voice not performing to your taste recently?"

At that, he couldn't stop himself, he had to reassure her.

"No my dear, your voice is quite excellent these days, and there is little I could find to change about your delivery of the lines."

"Then what is it? I mean… We… We spent a few months together, now, and… Well, I trust you, and I hope you know you can trust me… Make a leap of faith, Angel, as I did when I accepted your lessons… Open up to me…"

Her voice was pleading, in a way she hadn't thought she would, but her heart begged her to know what had angered the voice that had become so important to her, another lifeline in her world, linking her to what was beautiful and kind and hopeful and magical.

He was touched, without words, once again. She always did that to him. Whenever he was down, she was inquiring about him, and tonight was no exception. And so, he decided to take her up on her offer. It was a bold move, something he'd never thought he'd do, but here he was. Trusting her.

"Are you quite sure about this, my dear? Once I trust you, there'll be no coming back from it, I can assure you. Things will never be the same again."

He had to make sure it was something she wanted, completely, and wouldn't regret.

She didn't know what all was this about, all the drama and theatrics, but from a voice, she couldn't really expect any less. And in her heart, she knew the only answer she could give.

"Yes, I'm sure. Trust me, Angel. There's nothing you can tell me that could make me change my mind about you."

He wasn't sure about that. But his luck had run out, and he would face it like a man, even if he was a man in a mask.

And so, from behind the mirror, he opened the secret passage from where he'd been watching her.

* * *

She held her breath. She'd known he was never just a voice, but a real man, and she knew he had to be watching her from somewhere, but to see him appear, like that, from behind a hidden door, it made her shiver.

She'd made guesses, of course, as to what he looked like. His voice was deep, and low, so he had to be tall and powerful looking, and she was right. All dressed in black, even from across the room, he towered over her. But what she wasn't expecting, was the Darth Vader mask he had on his face, hiding him effectively from her sight.

She felt frustrated. What was the point of finally revealing himself if he still wanted to hide behind a mask?

He approached, slowly, and bowed to her, taking her hands into his.

She noticed his hands, and her heart fluttered. He had the most beautiful hands she'd ever seen, long fingers, smooth and elegant, his skin soft to the touch, and his movements were full of grace, like a dancer's might be. And with his build, he had to be strong.

If she hadn't been smitten with him already, seeing his hands and the rest of his body, with the rich fabric and glittering of his cloak and clothes, that would have done it.

"Forgive me, my dear, for the mask. I'd rather not show my face."

"Why?" She whispered. "You don't need to hide from me."

"Please. Could you… Could you ignore it?"

She heard the strange distress in his voice, a sound she wasn't used to hearing anymore, not after the first time he pleaded for her to give him a chance, and so she agreed.

"Very well. But… May I ask a favor of my own?"

"Anything else, my dear."

"Sing for me."

He chuckled.

"As you wish."

He went to sit down at the piano, and slowly, gently, he began singing.

* * *

She stood frozen, unable to look away from him. His voice was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard, and his playing pure and rich, the melodies flying from the keys with breathtaking ease, and his tone, smooth as dark chocolate, like velvet or silk in her ears. It wasn't like anything she'd ever heard, the song unknown, its beauty something ethereal, otherworldly. The feelings he let out took her breath away, again, shaken to the core from the power he had, the despair he sang of, the strange connection she'd felt, before, with him, now put plainly before her eyes.

He was making a magic of his own, and tears came unbidden from her eyes, as her whole soul seemed to cry out for him, at his pain and how alike they both seemed. From the ugliness of his memories, he transformed it, shaped it into art. Art that could break curses and level mountains and melt frozen hearts.

She felt his music burn through her veins, the sound reaching deep into herself, unlocking yet something else she'd buried deep. A vulnerability she'd desperately fought, put to light again.

When he finished, with a long, sustained note, she gasped, and applauded.

* * *

He hadn't thought that would be her condition, but it was easy enough to grant, and so he had granted her wish. He'd sung, and played for her. He'd lost himself in the music, as he usually did, but now, with the knowledge she was there, to hear him, to listen to him, he'd given everything he had. He'd cried, too, happy the mask hid them from her gaze, as the emotions coursed through his mind to his heart and to his fingers.

For once, he hadn't repressed a single thing, pouring love and hope and despair into his songs, showing himself far more intimately than he could have done by taking off the mask.

He finished, then, and heard her applause. And his heart broke once more.

For a while, they just stood there, unable to speak. Words wouldn't do justice to what had just united them. She could almost see it, like a bright sparkling silver rope connecting them, from her throat to his, from his heart to hers.

"That was amazing," she finally whispered. "Like magic."

He turned towards her, not trusting his voice to speak, for a minute. Then he softly asked:

"Would you sing with me?"

"I'd love to."

And so they began a duet. If she liked singing, if she loved his voice, what she felt when both of their voices combined was unlike anything else she'd ever experienced. Almost an out-of-body experience. As if they were briefly sharing one body, one mind, one heart. It was almost spiritual, the bliss she felt to be connected with that man. Their voices were perfectly harmonized, responding to each other and complementing each other, together, lost in the music.

It was a love song, as were most of the duets, of course, and she let herself pour what she felt there and then, what she was now sure she felt for this man, mask be damned, everything else be damned. And if she let herself believe, she could almost hear the same longing in his voice, the same yearning to be accepted, to be loved as she felt herself. How she wanted to give it to him…

He thought he would explode, from the pure joy he felt when they blended their voices. When she answered to his call, soaring and flying, coming down to lift him with her. He could die, right there and then, and he'd die a happy man.

She had single-handedly brought back the fire of passion from the dying ember of his heart, made him glad to still be there, to have fought his demons and not given up years ago. She made him forget his past, forget his ugliness, forget the outside world. When they were singing, together, the outside world didn't exist.

There was only music, and art, and beauty.

And she was at the center of it all, the sun, the one star in his galaxy, and he was orbiting around her, tilting every so often to remain basking in her light.

They went from song to song, barely stopping for breath, for anything, until they'd run out of music sheets.

Then silence surrounded them once again, and they could both feel that there could be no going back now. Something had changed, forever altering their relationship. What they had shared in this room couldn't be ignored any more than the fast beating of their hearts.

"Could I look at you, in the eyes?" she sighed, nearly begging. "I need to look at you, fully. Please indulge me…"

He hesitated. He'd given so much already. He didn't want to tempt fate, to have it give him everything only to take it back as swiftly. And yet… The longing in her voice, was calling to him, seducing him.

"Give me a moment."

She nodded, and he went back to the hidden room, where he had his home, and took a mask, one that left his eyes and mouth free, and yet kept his deformity and scars hidden. She didn't move, letting him take his time.

He came back, and she noticed his eyes, for the first time. She approached him, taking his hands in hers, her gaze never leaving his face.

"Thank you," she said.

She took her time taking in his eyes, their deep blue color, the way emotion coursed through them, strong and soft at the same time. She looked at his lips, too, the only thing that wasn't hidden, how reddish pink they were, and then his hair. Black and short.

He didn't dare move, keeping his hands in hers, as she looked at his face, or rather what wasn't hidden by the mask.

She brought her hand to his cheek, feeling the hard, cold porcelain of the mask, and she whispered:

"You don't need to hide from me. I know you feel like you need it, and I'll give you as long as you wish, but know this, Angel: I won't leave, until I've seen you, all of you."

"But you will, once you have."

He whispered back, so softly she didn't think she'd heard it well, over the noise of their hearts.

"You've still never told me your name, Angel. I don't mind calling you by this name, but…"

"Erik."

It had come unbidden, again, too strong for him to hold it back.

She was surprised he'd given it up so easily, after everything, but was glad.

"Erik," she slowly repeated. "Like the mermaid's prince."

Somehow, it seemed fitting. And so, as he'd given her so much more, tonight, she felt bold enough to admit out loud:

"I hope you won't let yourself be enchanted by someone else's voice."

He would have fallen to his knees, at her feet, to convince her that he would never, could never.

"There is only you," he confessed. "There will only ever be you. Your voice… You have my heart, if you desire it."

There. He'd said it. He hadn't wanted to, but she had the power to make him do the stupidest things. He sighed, when she said nothing.

"Forgive me, I… I have been too bold."

"People do crazy things, when they're in love," she quoted, looking back to his eyes.

He trembled.

"You can have mine too."

And there, he truly fell at her feet, his heart nearly bursting at the seams, his body shaking with great cries.

"This can't be real," he sighed. "I must be dreaming…"

Her heart broke at seeing him like this, unable to believe her. What had happened to him, in his past to make him so afraid, so reluctant to see what was freely offered?

"Then we're both dreaming, and it's a good dream," she said, falling to her feet, too.

She grasped his hands, kissing their soft skin, unsure of how to make him understand how much he meant to her, now.

He finally managed to regain his composure, and stood up, bringing her back of her feet.

"It's very late, now, my dear. You should go home, and rest. We've… We've worked on your voice enough."

They were back to familiar waters, now, the teacher and the student, but she couldn't hold it against him. It would take time. A long time, for him to grow comfortable enough with her, to accept the reality of her feelings.

But she owed it to him, to her, to them, to try and be patient.

They were worth it.

So she squeezed his hands one last time.

"Goodbye, then, Erik. Until tomorrow, my Angel."

"Goodnight my dear."

She smiled, squeezing his hands one last time, and she left, not trusting herself to look back. If she saw him looking back at her, she would never leave. And that just wouldn't do. There was something missing, she felt, but after what they'd shared tonight, it would have to wait.

She loved him. She'd admitted it to him. So why couldn't he accept it was true? Why did he doubt her so much?

She didn't know him. She hadn't seen his face, didn't know what horrors the mask hid. Didn't know the darkness he had beneath the surface.

And she would never see it. Because once she did, she'd leave him, and he couldn't bear to have her gone.

He loved her. Had said so, in his words.

She left the underground lair, prepared to continue her investigations. She knew so little of him, and she was desperate for more.

In bed, once home, she turned and turned, unable to let him leave her mind. She felt a stirring in her bones, something she'd never felt for anyone before, that Erik had awakened in her body. She knew what it was, and yet was surprised by its intensity. Seeing him, his eyes, his hands, had made her aware, keenly so, that he was much more than a voice. And her body knew it. She wanted him. There was no denying it.

* * *

For the first time, he'd followed her home. He couldn't help himself. He had to be sure she was safe, and the walk behind her had felt good, in the warm night air.

Here nobody would question him or his mask.

Once she was home, in her small flat, he'd taken a quick look inside, curious to see where she lived. It was cozy, decorated with taste and colors.

Bright with life.

Her lights went off, and his heart satisfied, he returned to his home.

He couldn't sleep. It was always difficult, but tonight was especially difficult. Even lying down, exhaustion soaking his bones, he felt his body and mind humming, aching for something, someone who wasn't there.

So he got up, and threw himself in his work and his art, the only things that could lessen the ache inside him.

He would soon run out of space for his paintings. He couldn't help himself, softly singing while he drew her, the only one he felt deserving of his time and attention. And so he painted her, in her red costume, dealing with parade, calm and yet her presence demanding attention and respect. At night, on the hill, in front of the castle, lost in her thoughts. Singing, eyes closed, her face bright and filled with emotion.

He would never get enough of her.

Now he drew her smiling at him, small tears sparkling in her eyes, as she squeezed his hands. That one may be his best painting yet.

* * *

_Thank you again for reading, all of you! You're making my days =) I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!_


	7. 7 - A Home Under the Park

Chapter 7: A Home Under the Park

She had another close shift the next day, and this time she was partnered with Meg. These past few months, she had noticed a change in her friend. Christine seemed more confident and soothed. Nothing appeared to have changed in her life though, but she thought she might finally have put the pain of her parents' passing behind her.

And yet, today Christine was especially bright. She'd never seen her smile so warmly.

There had to be something.

"Out with it, now," she urged her, as they were still in the slow part of preparing the parade. "What's going on with you? You seem to have swallowed the sun."

"There's nothing, I'm not hiding anything."

"Sure, you're not. Come on, Christine. You know you can trust me."

She hesitated. Now that her friend asked, she felt she very much wanted to share what was in her heart and mind.

"There's a boy," she guessed. "Isn't there?"

"Well, yes. But Meg, you can't tell anyone. Promise me."

"I won't tell a soul. Now tell me. What happened?"

And so Christine told her of the letter, the meeting, and the lessons that followed. And she spoke of the day before, what he'd admitted.

"Heavens, Christine, he's in love with you, that's for sure. And you love him too, that's wonderful! What now?"

"He's very shy, so… I'm not going to push him."

Meg nodded.

"I'm glad for you. It's really nice to see you smile for real again."

And then guests came in, and the real work began, leaving no time to talk. And during lunch, they were surrounded and couldn't mention anything, and then for the Dreams, they were in different teams, Meg on the hub with the special abilities people, or SAP, and Christine near the back of the park, at the bridge between two parts of Adventureland. It was a position she liked for its pirate music and the calm it offered, ideal when she wanted to be alone.

And alone she now was, for the next hour and a half.

So she wasn't very much surprised when she heard his voice in the darkness.

"Not bored, are you, my dear?"

"Not at all. I can't wait to have our lesson…"

"So do I."

She tried to look for him, but he moved in shadows like he belonged and was born in them, so she couldn't spot him.

He was silent after that, but she knew he was still there, watching her.

"Shouldn't you be out there to watch the show? I can't be all that interesting…"

He chuckled softly.

"You are."

"Well, come out here so I can look at you too. It's not fair if you're the only one having fun."

The music seemed to be louder after that, as if he wanted to muffle any sounds.

And then here he was, all in black, with his Darth Vader mask. He was a real dramatic character, and it suited him, despite how strange and "bad show" it was to have a Sith lord on a wooden bridge next to a 18th century galleon.

"Good," she smiled. "Now we can talk. It's much better to have you for real."

She meant it. She liked being able to look at him, even if it was only a costume hiding him fully. At least his presence felt more real, his tall body and broad shoulders a comforting presence.

"I suspect the cameras can't see you, can they?"

"No they can't. They won't show us together, either, tonight. As far as anyone is concerned, you've been here doing your job, all alone."

"Perfect, that gives us time to talk. We'll sing later, if that's alright with you?"

"My dear, spending time with you has become enough for me. I delight in listening to your voice, but am content to only be with you."

She loved him for saying this out loud.

"Well… I must admit I feared you… You only ever liked my voice."

It nearly broke him, and he was quick to reassure her:

"At first, it might have been so, but, Christine, my dear, you could stop singing entirely and I would still be at your feet."

And he fell at her feet, holding her hands, to show her what he meant.

She squeezed her hands, and brought him to his feet, still fearing someone might come and see her.

"Have no fear, my dear," he said again. "No one will come and disturb you tonight. They know everything's alright in this part."

"How do you manage to stay here all the time? I mean… You live here, don't you? You move unseen, you have the cameras to do what you want…"

"The park has been my home ever since it opened. I participated in its construction, 20 years ago. I was young, and… The world didn't like me very much, so I preferred to remain here, unseen, to act as a managing director, of sorts. To help the place grow, and become the greatest it could be."

Twenty years ago… She knew he couldn't be her age, but to have him confirm it, like this… It was unexpected, as well, his answering her questions. And so she pressed him, slowly.

"You did a wonderful job, she said. I've come here with my parents, ever since it opened. I was too young to remember, of course, but… It was my home, away from home. And now, they're gone, and… It's become my home again. There is nowhere else I feel so… Like I belong, you know."

She looked around, her heart filling with love, the memories of a time long ago embedded in her skin, if not her brain, the emotions she felt then still flowing through her veins. . Perhaps that was why she still loved it so, even though she'd grown up and felt the darkness of loss, of losing hope and the comforts of childhood, despite knowing fully how it worked here, how it wasn't always sparkles and real stone. Somehow, coming here, despite knowing it by heart, she felt something no words could ever translate. An inner peace and joy no place else had ever given her. For her, the park has never been an attraction-filled place, but rather something akin to a childhood home, where her most cherished memories still lived, even if she'd been too small to remember them other than seeing them in pictures. The feeling was still attached to her bones, her very DNA, and reminded her of those times when her conscious brain could not.

"I am glad it has brought you joy and comfort."

"Would you show me your home, then? There has to be something, next to the music room, right?"

He hesitated, for a second, and then agreed, seeing the look of hope and wonder in her eyes.

"If it pleases you, then I shall."

Fireworks exploded in the sky then, signaling the start of the show. From there, she could barely see them, but knew the show enough to guess which part they were at.

"You're officially missing it, you know," she smiled.

"I don't care. I much prefer being here with you, my dear."

She nearly burst into tears, but took a deep breath, to calm her emotions spiraling out of control. And so she turned her thoughts to the show, starting to hum along, tuning her song to the rhythm of the exploding fireworks.

And then, she began to sing more loudly, and his voice joined her as well, as they were re-enacting this show they both loved. He might have been excellent at duets, but his voice shone as well in other, more unexpected roles. He was an eccentric Lumière, wonderfully funny as the genie, painfully real as Quasimodo, and then he let her sing her part alone in Frozen.

In Tangled, he added the male voice, just for her, and she nearly melted on the spot. His "_now that I see you_", their voices united again, touched a deep chord within her heart.

"I love you," she whispered, tears in her eyes, and took a step forward, holding him in her arms.

For a moment, he stood frozen, unable to move, unable to process the warm body close to his, the emotions too strong and deep for him to act. He wanted to savoir each breath he took with her there, each sigh she gave as she leaned into him, pressed her face to his chest. She was so small, next to him.

And then he held her tightly to him, his arms encircling her.

"I've always dreamt of doing that," she murmured in his chest, the vibration nice against his body. "Singing that song with someone, someone I love."

Now was the second time she said she loved him, and he still hadn't answered.

"I love you, my dear Christine. More than you can imagine."

She held him tighter after his confession, and then he gently broke free of her embrace. They heard the finale, as if it were far, far away from them, the last of the fireworks lighting the sky white, and the distant applause and cheering.

"I helped design it, the show, you know."

He didn't know why he said that, but he felt he wanted to tell her everything. Wanted for her to know him, these parts he felt so proud of, these long years spent trying to put more art and beauty and magic into the world, when the world had only brought him pain and misery. Now he could finally share his world with someone who understood what it meant to him.

"It's beautiful, and my favorite. The other shows, around the world, they… They're insignificant. This… People come from far away to see this, and all the applause, and cheering, it's for you."

They heard the closing announcement, and he felt it was time to go back to the shadows, until she finished and could join him.

"I will wait for you in the music room, my dear."

"I'll be down as fast as I can."

He held her hands, squeezed them, and then he was gone.

The air seemed much colder, without him there with her, and she shivered. Thankfully, time went by quickly as she waited for the radio announcement that all was clear, the fire crew gone to check everything, and the end of the dreams show. Her team coordinator went to tell her so, and they went back to the base, for the debriefing. Nothing had gone amiss, tonight. It'd been a calm day, and the guests had been pleasant. She joined Meg, squeezing her hand, her friend not missing the light in her eyes.

They badged out, and they quickly walked to the Ima building to get changed.

"You seem awfully happy, for such a late hour."

Christine shrugged, still smiling at the thought of soon coming back to see him.

"Well, it's the end of the day, isn't it? I'm just glad to go home."

"Come on, you're lying! Did you see him?"

She wanted to tell her, but at that time the lockers were packed with people, and she couldn't risk any word getting out.

"I'll text you about it, she promised. Now the walls have ears, you know."

For once, her friend agreed. There were few things ever remaining private, in DLP. Gossip was as much liked as anywhere else, and the youth and atmosphere didn't help.

Ready to leave, she kissed Meg goodbye, and returned to the park, hidden in shadows, her heart impatient to go back to him. She found the hidden door, and went through the dark corridors underneath, to his music room.

He was there, as promised, but this time, his mask didn't hide his eyes, nor his mouth.

"Hey," she told him, going to embrace him.

This time, too, he seemed a bit more prepared, holding her tight against him.

He didn't know how he now somehow deserved someone like her, how she could love him, when no one ever had before. But he was determined in taking everything he could, before something inevitably would send her away.

"My dear," he whispered on the top of her hair. "I trust the rest of your evening was pleasant."

"Colder," she admitted, "once you left. But you're here now, so… May I see your home?"

He stepped away, holding out his hand.

"As you wish, my dear."

She took it, and he brought her to the hidden door he'd first appeared from yesterday. Had it been only a day since then?

The room was similar to his music one. There was a violin in its case, music sheets everywhere, and a huge, magnificent organ. A music stand, too.

"How many instruments do you play?"

"Only these three, reasonably well. I have a working knowledge of several others, but these three are my favorite."

"You compose, right? When we began, I thought we did a song I never heard, and couldn't find afterwards."

"I do. I must say… You prove to be quite the inspiration."

She squeezed his hand, unable to find her voice to tell him how much this meant to her.

Then they went to another room, this time a living room with comfortable chairs, a sofa, and along the walls, bookcases filled with so many books her head spun. Books of fiction, nonfiction, art treaties, architecture, science, languages. He seemed to have a bit of everything down there. A nice architect and drawing desk stood, as well, several sheets of paper big enough to envelop her entirely, with new concepts and building designs on it. Even… Floats, for upcoming parades?

What surprised her, too, but shouldn't have, was another beautiful desk with a shiny, latest brand computer. Three screens, all locked on a drawing of her, and silent, softly humming. A graphic tablet as well.

And then she noticed the paintings. They were all of her. Some were small, barely a sheet of paper, others were huge, decorating a complete part of the wall.

How could she have missed it?

"All of these… They're… I mean… I'm not so beautiful…"

There was such longing, such adoration in the way she was represented. Like an angel, bright and luminescent, filled with light and warmth. Such tenderness, too, in the depth of her eyes, the shape of her smile. It was her, and yet, so much more than what she herself saw in the mirror.

"It is you. The way I see you, Christine."

He looked at her then, holding her gaze, for once not fearing to let her see how deeply he cared for her, how much he adored her, loved her.

"You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen."

His admission, so truthful, not a doubt in his eyes, so fully sincere, brought her to tears. She clung to him again, wishing to show him with her body, if not voice, how much that meant to her, how much she wished she could have a single bit of his talent to adequately pay tribute to his adoration.

"I'm nothing special, Erik. Just a woman, with a bit of a singing voice. That's all. You know nothing more about me."

It was the truth she felt in her bones, but she was suddenly desperate for more of his praise, the reassurance of his feelings. But she got that and more: his own doubts emerging.

"Why would you say that? You are extraordinary. Kind and gentle, and so full of light. You were able to put your faith in me, when you had no reasons to. You chose to trust me. You're warm and sincere and funny and confident. Why would you care about me? You said you loved me, Christine, but I'm… A recluse, hiding from the light, deceiving you to have you come to me… I can't… I can't show you who I am properly… You can't really love me… If I don't know about you, then you don't know about me, either."

"Please don't insult my feelings," she said, still a bit floored by his kind words of praise. "You are a genius, Erik. I mean. This room alone proves it. You're kind, and tender, and your heart… Your heart is full of creation. You have so much to give the world, and you have given so much… I wish… I wish you'd see it. I wish you could see how much joy you truly bring the world... You bring to me… I love you, for all of this, and for this heart… I don't need to know much of your past, I have guessed what you dared not confess. I won't ask you to share what you're not ready to do… I can only offer you my heart, my voice, the soul of a young singer, who was broken until she met you."

He fell to his knees again, at her feet and she saw tears, real tears in his eyes, before they were swallowed by his mask.

"My dear, my love… It is too much, so much more than I deserve…"

She took his hands, caressed them slowly, and brought him back to his feet. Slowly, again, she brought his hands to her waist, and her own to his face, cupping his cheeks.

He made to step back, fearing she would take off the mask, do something she'd regret, but she sensed him move, and kept him close.

"Don't worry, Angel. I promise I won't take it off, not until you're ready. I want you to be comfortable around me. Relax, hear how quickly your heart is beating?"

And she put her hand spread against his chest, feeling his heart fluttering madly, content to be there, his warmth seeping into her fingers.

It was an intimate gesture, and she should be ashamed of her boldness, but he didn't seem to mind, and she couldn't help herself. She had to show him, to touch him, how much she cared and wanted him, and yet how patient and understanding she'd pledged herself to be.

She wouldn't frighten him off. And yet, her hands slowly began to caress his chest, a soothing gesture, and he closed his eyes, sighing, his hands coming over hers.

"There. It's quieter now," she whispered, still keeping her hand there, their fingers entwined.

He opened his eyes.

"Would you like to sing?" He asked, shy and his voice low and deep.

"Only if you accompany me."

He returned to the music room, bringing back the violin. When he started to play, she felt faint and had to sit.

The barest note had her breaking, great sobs overwhelming her.

He stopped then, but at her look, he started again, humming along, a soothing lullaby.

He let her cry, his own heart breaking with her despair.

But she needed it. The emotions she'd always held back, came hurling back to her, deep and intense and furious.

The violin had brought her back when her parents were alive. She'd never heard it live since, had banished it from her life as her parents had been. And here, his playing, soft and yet haunting, had reminded her so greatly, acutely of them, of that time, she hadn't been able to resist.

So she cried, let it go, letting his voice bring her back to the present.

When he saw she had calmed a little, he brought the melody to its bright, warm end, in a final lifting, long note.

Then he set the instrument down, and came to kneel to take her hands into his.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," he whispered.

"You play beautifully. I'd never thought I'd hear a song better than my parents' duet, but you proved me wrong. Please, let us sing."

"As you wish, dearest."

_Dearest_. A new word, one he'd never used for her yet. And she loved it.

"Would you try this one?"

He held a music sheet in his hands, as if it'd magically appeared there.

"You composed it? Yes please."

He started playing again, softly, closing his eyes, getting lost in the music.

And then it was her cue. She started to sing, following the lyrics written on the page, nearly shyly at first. The violin was there behind her voice, just loud enough to complete her singing, to compliment her voice, as if the arrangement was built around her voice. It made it more beautiful, shining bright and warm and loud, the violin bringing a deep, haunting quality to it, and it grew different again. As if the violin was chasing her, serenading her, answering her, a new duet between the two.

And she went quiet, as the violin grew again alone, nearly overwhelmingly loud and strong, until it gave way to her new favorite sound: his voice. As if the violin had been his, until it shifted, transformed into a human voice.

As if the spell had been broken, allowing him to speak.

As if the mermaid had given the sailor his voice back, changing the story.

Their voices united again, together at last, and she took his hands, looking in his eyes, lost in them, not even needing the sheets to finish their last chorus.

The music came at an end, a beautiful, hopeful end, and she couldn't take it anymore.

She kissed him.

Fully on the lips, surprising herself with her gesture, and yet completely unrepentant.

She caressed his lips with hers, as he failed to react, and she took his lapels between her hands, bringing him closer, urgent and demanding.

_Kiss me back_, she wanted to tell him through her moves.

But he didn't. He stayed frozen again.

So she stepped back, her cheeks growing pink.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I… I thought… Well, I thought you might want it too…"

He seemed to finally understand what was going on, what she said, what she wanted, and he took her hands back in his…

"You kissed me…"

This beautiful woman, unafraid and kind, had kissed him. Had brought her face so close to him so as to touch his skin with her lips. He'd felt her, soft and warm, but something had snapped inside of him, as if unable to move, terrified to make a wrong move and make her stop.

"Why did you stop?" he asked softly.

She giggled nervously. Oh gods… That would be awkward.

"You're supposed to kiss me back," she said. "You didn't, and… I thought I was causing you distress, but you didn't dare push me away."

Oh… Oh… Maybe his readings were a bit lacking, then, it seemed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I… I'm afraid I'm not very good with that."

She smiled, and stepped back towards him.

"Relax. Stop thinking, and let your body do what it wants to do. It knows, even if you don't. Come here," she whispered, as she brought her lips back to his.

She was even slower than the first time, taking her time to caress his lips, gently, bringing one hand to his cheek, the other to his hand, to put it on her own neck. He seemed to understand, then, and brought the other hand to cup her neck, his eyes closed, as he finally kissed her back.

She sighed.

Now, that was a kiss. It was tender, and sweet, and yet she didn't feel the need for more.

Not yet.

He seemed so afraid of his body, of her own, too, as if he'd never felt these urges inside of him. But she would be patient, to show him, to make him learn to feel with his skin, his hands, his lips. And if he was as dedicated to learning this as he was for other things, she had no worries for the future.

* * *

_I'm always surprised to see you all reading and enjoying it! Thank you so much! Have no fear, I'm writing what happens next and plan on posting nearly every day as long as I am able. Please don't hesitate if you have more questions about the fic, that pairing, or more about Disneyland Paris in general. As you may have guessed, I'm a big, big fan. The music for the show Disney Dreams is real and true to the timing of the story, so you can listen to it as you read, to give you the proper background ;) That was the summer of 2016. Hoping you enjoyed that chapter and that first kiss!_


	8. 8 - A Night Together

*-* Night together

They kissed and sang some more, cherishing the time they spent together. It felt as though that night would never end.

Finally, she was getting tired. He lit several candles and they sat down on the couch. They began talking about the park some more, about things to come, and she was eager to have more knowledge about what else went in other teams and places. He seemed to know everything about it, the smallest details, his love and passion shining through every word. Slowly, she felt her eyes closing.

"You should be going home," he whispered, his hand in hers. "You're tired."

"I don't want to… Could I stay here? I mean, I understand if you feel it's too much, but… I don't want to leave."

He never expected it to happen, but he was quick to decide.

"Yes, of course."

She made to stand up, but he caught her in his arms, and brought her back to his room. A big bed was occupying nearly the entire room, with red and black drapes, and a wardrobe in a corner, with again another bookcase on the entire opposite wall.

He gently set her down on the bed.

"There's a bathroom right next door, and I'm here should you need anything."

He kissed her forehead, and made to leave, but she reached out to take his hand.

"I know this is much to ask, Angel, but… Would you stay here? It's a big bed… Please… At least until I fall asleep?"

How could he deny her, when she pleaded with him so?

So he sat down next to her, her hands still in his, and listened to her quiet sigh, and then her breathing slowing.

Ten minutes later, he was sure she'd fallen asleep, right there in her day clothes. He should leave, he knew he had to, but… He couldn't. She held him there with her, her spell too powerful to be broken.

And so he stayed there, too, listening to her heart beating, enjoying the calm of the night and the warmth of her body in his bed.

He dared not move, in order not to disturb her. His head was spinning from all that had happened today. He kept touching his lips, unable to believe his sweet, wonderful Christine had truly, really kissed him. She'd held him close and had showed him how…

He sighed, closing his eyes.

And if that was the only thing, he'd have been so happy, but it wasn't only her kiss and touch, no. Her voice had initially drawn him to her, but her kindness had thrown him to her feet, her quiet courage dealing with the despair and depression her parents' death had brought, and her passion, when she sang and spoke about what she loved.

About his park…

About _him._

And now… Now he couldn't get her out of his mind, and he dared not believe she truly wanted him. How could he be so lucky to have this perfect angel next to him, comforted by him, singing for him, _loving_ him?

He did not know.

He knew nothing anymore, his whole world shattered by her.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually sent a threatening letter to the managers, to some cast members not doing their job. How long had it been since he'd gone and made a thorough visit to every restaurant? Every hotel? How long ago had he checked the complaints to give a piece of his mind to its unlucky recipient?

He couldn't remember… She'd made him soft. She'd rearranged his priorities, becoming fast the true center of his world. He'd neglected the other aspects of his life, keeping only her, and the music that united them both.

And yet… Could he truly be saddened by that? Could he truly regret the long hours spent taking notes about everything, making sure it was to his standards? Most of all, had the park suffered from his unusual absence?

It seemed not, but he would have to check. He couldn't go on like this, like a love-struck child, forgetting his plans for the future good of his park.

He sat up, nearly determined to leave her there and go back to his work, but then his gaze fell on her, and he softened.

No.

He couldn't regret it.

Not when she was like this, slowly burrowing deeper into him, her scent sweet and delicate, and with a great sigh, she turned towards him, her arm coming to drape itself over him.

He panicked, not knowing what to do, how to put it away without waking her, but slowly, his own breathing went back to normal, as he found he quite enjoyed having her warmth around him.

So he remained there, banishing all thoughts from his head, deciding to hum a lullaby, a soft, sweet melody he'd had in mind for the past few days, and unable to fully succeed in writing it down.

He pulled out his recorder, and started to sing, gently, testing out different phrases and sentences that may fit, following his inspiration.

It wasn't until he had nearly finished that sleep overcame him, at last, and he closed his eyes, still sat up, her arm still around him, his fingers clasped on her hand.

* * *

She woke up slowly, still in the dark. The sheets she was in were much nicer than the ones she owned, soft and smooth, and the warmth around her was nice, so nice… She moved her hand, finding it clutched something.

Her arm was over something like a pillow, but much bigger, and stronger, harder. It moved, too.

She opened her eyes, the memories of last night filling her head at once.

She had slept in his bed…

And he was still there, where she had left him, where she had wanted him to be, right next to her, mask still on, sleeping softly.

She held her breath, not daring to move.

He was still there.

It moved her heart, comforted her, too. In the soft darkness, he seemed peaceful, at ease, and she ached to take off his mask, to see, finally see him, but she knew he wouldn't like it. He was so private, he'd feel it an aggression, surely.

So she reined in her curiosity, and laid back, enjoying the feel of his body next to hers. Maybe if she pretended to still be asleep, she could inch a bit closer still.

She caressed his hand, loving the feel of his long, elegant, skilled fingers in hers. She could still feel his lips on hers, remembered the way he'd been so shy, so painfully awkward, and she loved him even more for it.

She sighed, wishing she could go and kiss him awake, again, but her fear held her back. As much as she wanted it, she had to take it slow.

And he woke up, startled, remembering what had happened in a flash, and he sat up, gently pushing her arm away, and fled from his room, hiding in the bathroom.

The cold his absence brought made her shiver, and small tears appeared in her eyes. Why? Why had he gone so quickly? An impulse made her get up as well, and she came over to the door, asking:

"Erik? What are you doing? _Why did you leave?_"

He failed to answer her, but she thought she heard him moaning, as if in pain.

"Angel, please… You can tell me anything… I'm here… "

"Go…" he whispered. "Leave me alone…"

"I won't leave until I know you're alright."

"You should go… I… I don't deserve you…"

She repressed her sigh. She knew it would be hard to make him shake his insecurities away, but she wanted him. And she wouldn't stop until she had him, all of him, and made him realize his worth and accept her love.

"My sweet Erik… Please don't push me away. Come out, now."

He moaned something else she couldn't understand.

"I'll let you get changed, if you'd like, and then we'll have breakfast together."

She heard him sigh. And then, some water noise, as if he was washing himself, quickly. And then some ruffling, clothing shed and pulled on again. A spray, perfume, surely.

"You won't get rid of me, Angel. I love you, and I won't leave you."

The door opened.

"Do you truly mean it?" he whispered, his face peeking through the opening.

"Yes. _I love you_," she repeated, after a pause. "If you let me, I'll prove it to you."

She approached him, slowly, giving him time to step back, but he didn't move. He held his breath, completely motionless, and she brought her hands to his cheeks, cradling his face, and her lips to his.

Softly, tenderly, they kissed, and when she stepped back, to regain her breath, she whispered:

"Good morning, my darling Erik."

* * *

He'd panicked. Having her in his bed, so close, he'd panicked. All the doubts overwhelming him, and he thought he had to hide. She had to leave, for her own good. He wasn't a good person, he'd done terrible things, and he had no right to deprive her of a happy ending with other, better people, like the young Red of her team. She deserved this chance, and he couldn't stand in the way, despite how much he might want her.

But she hadn't wanted to let him go, to leave him. She insisted, and her gentle reassurance had gone to melt his frozen heart, to push his fears back.

To soothe him.

So he opened the door. And let her kiss him, let himself enjoy it, feeling the softness of her skin, the gentleness of her hands on his mask, and tentatively, he put his own on her neck, then down her waist.

"Good morning, dearest," he whispered back, holding her in his arms, his face pressed to her shoulder, to her sweet smelling hair.

She sighed, bringing him closer to her.

"See? You don't have to push me away. I want you with me."

He gasped, tears threatening to come down again, but he held them, and embraced her tighter.

"Christine, I love you…" he sang to her. "So very much."

She smiled against him, caressing his back, and pressed a last kiss to his lips. He was so sensitive, so sweet and tender, her heart broke for him every single time, with a nearly painful intensity, but she loved him all the more for it.

"I'll go refresh myself, and then we'll eat."

He took a step back, squeezing her hands, and let her go. He'll have to get changed as well.

"Would you like some new clothes? I can go and bring you back something."

"That would be lovely, thank you."

And he nodded, and went down the corridors of his hidden home, into the maze beneath the park, to retrieve a set of clothes that would fit her.

He had to guess at her size, but he found a few things that should go well. And he couldn't resist the thought of seeing her wear a dress he'd help design. They already had so many costumes, they wouldn't miss the new Ariel pink one, with the puffy sleeves and long skirt. He had something else, of course, if she didn't like it, but… Maybe she'd indulge him?

He came home, put the clothes on the bad of his room, and spoke through the door to the bathroom.

"I left a few sets of clothes, on the bed. Please choose the one you like best, and… I added another one, if you would consider doing a favor to your Angel."

She laughed then, a crystalline sound he thought he'd never yet heard from her, so sweet and pure, he thought his heart would stop right there.

"Well, if it pleases you, Erik, then I shall consider it."

Curiosity made her hurry through her shower. There was no mirror, in this room, and it came as no great surprise to her, as he must have no wish for it, but it didn't mean the room was anything less than beautiful. Marble for the basins, rich, fluffy towels, and a tub so big she wanted him to come and be with her. But of course, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

She quickly dried herself, and enveloped in a warm towel, she went back into his room. And her jaw dropped. She blinked. Once. Twice. No. It was still there.

She came nearer the rack where the dress was. Ariel's dress. One of her favorites, because of the sweet pink, the puff sleeves.

She knew it, and yet she didn't. The design was new, that she could tell, and had never yet been worn in the park. The skirts weren't too big, flowing simply down, and yet it was intricate, the fabric delicate and embroidered with sea flowers and small waves.

Maybe, just this once, she'd play the princess she hadn't dared be for a long, long time. She'd play the princess he surely saw in her, then, to bring her back this gorgeous gown that had never yet seen the light of day, worn by the face characters.

And so she put her underwear, the corset he'd provided with the dress, laced just enough to be comfortable, and then the dress over. He'd even brought her shoes her size to wear, small pink slippers that fit her well and were comfortable and agreed with the dress. She was sad she couldn't have a mirror to admire herself, but then thought it was for the best. After all, she would play pretend with him, for a while, and then return to her normal day clothes, and forget this had happened.

Because if she let herself show how much this meant to her, how deeply she liked it, she'd never get enough. And she was walking an already dangerous road, with her singing, now honestly better than the ones she could hear in the park, and the voice inside her now growing urgent, calling her to try out the casting. He'd like it, she knew, but… She wasn't ready, yet. But one day would come, soon enough, when she stopped resisting, and gave into that most forbidden dream.

She put these thoughts away, and returned to the living room, where he was waiting for her.

* * *

He'd waited for her, with bated breath, listening to her leaving the bathroom, and then finding the dress. He'd heard her small gasp, the sound of fabric being moved, folded and pulled on. He heard her move to the door, and she stepped out.

Heavens… She was so beautiful… The dress fit her perfectly, sweet and innocent just like she was, her curls framing her face just right, and a small smile to brighten her face.

She swirled, nearly giggling, and asked:

"So? What do you think?"

His mouth was dry, but then he mastered himself, and purred:

"You are perfect. It fits you perfectly."

Oh… The low, deep quality had returned to his voice, after the shyness he'd showed earlier, and now he was back to his dreamlike quality. That voice did indescribable things to her core.

She curtsied, formally.

"Why, thank you, dear sir."

He bowed, having changed into another set of his usual, black, rich costume.

"But I must say, I nearly expected you to dress as a prince."

"My apologies, my Lady," he bowed again. "I am no prince, therefore no such clothes would fit me."

She stepped towards him, to take his hands into hers.

"If I'm to be a princess, then you must be a prince. Stop denying yourself so much, my darling Angel."

"Christine…" he pleaded, his eyes deep into hers.

"Hush… Erik, you could be anything, anyone you want, here, with me. Why not pretend, for once? I mean, I love your clothes, I truly do, but… If I get to play pretend, then so do you."

And then, her stomach grumbled, destroying the sweet atmosphere.

He laughed softly, and she had to join him, loving the sound.

"My, my, my lady's hungry. Let me get you your breakfast."

And then he brought her to another room, with a beautiful mahogany table, pulled out her chair so she could sit, and then left to bring her back some things.

He'd gone up, to take some of the best food offered in the restaurants of the park before they were sent there, and was back in a matter of ten minutes.

"My apologies again, for the delay, my dear."

"It's quite alright," she said, waiting for him to sit down next to her.

But he didn't.

"Won't you join me?"

"I'm sorry, but… I'd rather not eat."

"Well, if you won't eat, then you could at least sit down? Please join me."

He hesitated.

"Please, Erik. I won't eat until you're here with me."

At that, he sat down, and she began her breakfast. He'd truly brought her back a feast, and she was glad, but there was too much for a single person.

"It's because of the mask, isn't it? You won't eat with it on?"

"Yes," he slowly admitted.

"It's alright, I understand."

She reached over the table, to grasp his hand, pressed his fingers.

"I'm glad you're here. One day, you'll feel comfortable enough to eat with me. And to take it off."

"I…"

How could he make her understand that if she saw him, truly, she'd leave in a heartbeat, never to return?

"My dear," he said finally, "I hope you never find out what the mask is hiding. For your sake, and mine."

That, of course, only made her more curious as to what it was he was truly hiding.

She sighed, feeling after everything had happened, he still wasn't ready, and she would achieve nothing but pain if she went on pressing him.

"If you think so, Angel, then I won't mention it again. Know that I love you, and I will love you no matter what."

These were grave matters, to hold over breakfast, but he needed to know.

She finished eating, and then left him alone to let him be able to have breakfast as well. She closed the door, and returned to his living room. The dress was surprisingly comfortable, and she found she liked the feel of it. She could even grow to enjoy it…

The books now called to her. Or the piano?

She'd sung so much yesterday, and yet her voice called to her again, wanting to get out of her body.

So she sat down at the piano, put her fingers in the key, and started playing. She had a small, nearly basic level, nowhere near what he could do with his hands, but for what she wanted to do, it was enough.

And she sang along, deciding on a Mermaid theme. After all, with her dress, she could hardly find a better fit.

* * *

He was eating quickly when he heard her starting to sing, accompanying herself on the piano. He finished even faster, putting it all away to swiftly go back to her and her song.

He remained in the shadows, not wanting to disturb her. He loved her choice of songs, despite the lack of a duet they could sing together. She went from her sweet, delightful rendition of Part of your world, to the sheer playfulness of Poor unfortunate souls. Her voice changed register, and she let herself act it out fully.

As though she'd forgotten she was seen, she did her best, in that second role she loved, playing the evil part as perfectly as she'd done the princess one.

Perhaps even more so, as it took a bit more acting on her part, and she looked really convincing. Maybe they should try out more villain songs, if that was how she sounded on those.

She stopped, then. Regained her breath, out of ideas as to what to sing next.

And he made the choice for her. He began a dark song, to echo the one she'd just sung, one that spoke of a dark desire, Hellfire. His voice was deep, sensual, but he avoided her gaze. And yet he spoke of something he'd never dared to hope, something he might have become if not for her… Something he had been, in the past, when there was nothing but darkness and misery and hatred.

_Look at me_, he seemed to tell her. _Look at who is the one you claim to love!_

She couldn't believe him. The parallels were not about Frollo, she was sure of it. He would never force her, never hurt her. His fire was not going to smother her, she was certain of that. He might have done terrible things, but she didn't care. Not anymore. Not when she saw in him something that had been present in her soul for a long, long time, the same sadness and unfulfilled desires that she'd harbored for too long. Unable to take it out, to do anything, until now.

She looked at him then, as if daring him to sing something else. Slowly, he began one song she loved, one he'd always felt close to: "Heaven's light", from The Hunchback.

_I knew I'd never know  
That warm and loving glow  
Though I might wish with all my might  
No face as hideous as my face  
Was ever meant for heaven's light._

His earnestness and tender voice was pure heaven to her ears, and yet he expressed so much raw pain and sadness in it, tears came again, goosebumps on her arms, her legs.

Her poor, darling, sweet Erik… Now there was a song that fit him better, and she could feel it in the way he poured everything in it.

_But suddenly an angel has smiled at me  
And kissed my cheek without a trace of fright_

_I dare to dream that she  
Might even care for me_

He looked at her, then, hope so bright in his eyes, she stood up and went to embrace him.

"You'll never have to be alone so much, anymore…"

He lost himself in her embrace, not daring to voice how he felt, how much of his love for the park had also come from those movies and stories, where he could dare to hope that someday, someone would recognize him for who he was inside, and put the pain of his past away.

"I'm here," she whispered.

And what she truly meant was: _we never have to be alone anymore. Neither of us._

They stayed there, embraced, for a moment, and then he stepped back.

"You begin at 11," he said.

It wasn't a question.

"You should be going, you'll be late."

She looked at her watch. Yep. It was already 10.

"I don't have a long way to go," she said. "I can still stay here for a while."

He sighed.

"My dear, you have to get changed, as much as I like to see you in that dress. It'll take some time."

"Fine. I'll go away, then."

She wasn't hurt, not really, but rather disappointed at the way life's realities came rushing back when she wanted nothing more than to stay here with him.

"I'm sure you have other things to do, after all."

She kissed his hands, softly, and returned to his room. There she put on the other day clothes he had brought her, and got back to him.

"Will I see you again tonight?" she asked. "We mustn't be late in our lessons."

"Yes, if you'd like. You don't need a lot more lessons, though, my dear. You are as perfect as anyone has ever been."

She smiled, at his praise, feeling it warm her heart.

"I… I suppose it is too much to ask to… Spend the night with you again?"

He sighed again.

"Dearest…"

"It's alright. I must give you space."

"I loved having you here," he finally confessed in anguish, his voice strong and desperate. "I… I'd like nothing more than to spend the rest of my days and nights with you by my side, but… Christine, I fear… I fear to grow too accustomed to your presence and wake up one day without you… It is… Still too soon…"

He was right. She knew it in her heart. She'd known him for six months. Known his body for three days. They had only kissed last night, and she wanted to move on too quickly.

"I'm sorry, Angel. Please forgive my eagerness."

"There is nothing to forgive, my dear. Please forgive me, for I am far away from the one you deserve."

She truly wished he would stop with that, but then again, it'd been only three she felt so much more had happened, it felt weeks.

She kissed him, pulling him close, wishing he would sense the truth in her acts, if not her words.

"Have a good day, my darling Erik."

"And you as well, dearest."

Her heart fluttered, and with a last glance back to him, she returned to the surface, and to the Ima building.

* * *

_Thank you all for reading, and anxiously waiting for more! ^^ There are still many feels to be had, so buckle up and enjoy the ride! thank you again, dearest readers!_


	9. 9 - Guest Flow Day

*-* Guest Flow Day

Returning to the buzzing activity of the surface world, she felt dazzled. But she enjoyed the feel of the sun on her skin, wishing he could find her in the daylight, be with her up there, too.

The cast members went about on their business, some already on their lunch break, some arriving just like her, to get changed, discussing with others, some quick about their business. It was one of her favorite moments, as well. It was a real beehive, and there was a sense of comfort in recognizing a few familiar faces, greeting her warmly.

She went to the costuming, to get a new set of clothes, and then up to her locker. She still had time, as she had left his home early, but she could take advantage of that and arrive early in the base, to get a feel of the park in the morning, the attendance, the atmosphere, and the schedule planned for her.

Oh, right. She'd nearly forgot. Today was a Frozen show day. She nearly cursed, but held her tongue and got down quickly. She'd changed into the wrong clothes. She went back to take out the right one, and returned to her locker to change again. Those were four changes in an hour, and that was a lot. But then again, today wasn't a normal day, by anyone's standard.

She was still on time, but she hurried to the base nonetheless: on the way, she could always be stopped to answer a question, and she prided herself on always doing it efficiently and graciously. But these took time, and if one wasn't too careful, they could end up being late.

She wasn't the first to arrive: Meg was here. Now that wasn't usual. She was always nearly running late, so to see her now, was a bit unnerving. The team leaders in charge of the day were not there, probably on the field to get everything ready, and so they were quite alone in the base.

"I waited for your text all evening. It never came," Meg reproached her playfully. "So something else must have happened to keep you away from your cell… Am I right?"

Christine blushed.

"See? I knew it… Oh please, Christine! Tell me!"

"I… I saw him, yesterday evening. And… We kissed."

Her friend squealed with joy, taking her hands into hers.

"Awesome! Was he a good kisser? Did you… Do more?"

"Heavens, no, Meg, he's still so very shy… But… Yes, he was good. Very good."

"Means you'll have to wait a bit… Oh, darling, I'm so glad! So glad for you!"

"What happened to make you so happy, Meg?" A new voice asked, startling the two women.

They hadn't heard the door open and Raoul enter.

"I'm just happy we have the same shift," she quickly improvised.

After all, that was true, they were both on the Frozen team, and if his costume was any indication, Raoul was with them too.

"Yeah, we all are!" he exclaimed, his smile dazzling.

Meg swooned.

"Now that's very good news!"

"Yes," Christine said quietly. "This will be fun."

Inside, she sighed with relief. He hadn't heard too much. And well. Despite everything, a great day at work was all she needed to think about something else, and not dwell on how much she wanted him, and more.

The rest of the team arrived then, putting an end to her thoughts, as she sat down next to Meg, waiting for the time to badge. Their Team leader entered then, and the time of the beginning of the shift appeared, signaling the start of their badging. She stood and went to badge, taking Meg's ID with her own, as she kept her seat. She sat down again, and their Team Leader started to call out their names.

When everyone had been called, she started reminding them of the information to help them with their day. The opening and closing times, how many people were going to attend the two parks, the weather, hot and sunny. She told them to drink often and seek the shade (code 77). And then she reminded them to be on their best behavior, as it was the start of a quality and safety test.

"Please try your best, because it is in your best interest to do this for the team, but also yourself. There's 100€ to earn at the end of July if you all perform well."

And the next slide bore those words, in red ink, and the team leader was surprised of their presence. But she kept it on, just long enough for them to read:

_If you don't… I don't want to remind you of the unfortunate incidents that have happened to those who didn't do their job right. I have complete faith in you. _

Whispers of "it's the Phantom" came and went away quickly, the order brought back by their Team leader and then they were off to work.

Christine shivered. The red ink… The wording. That was his doing, she felt sure of it.

But she kept quiet, not wanting to admit what she had found out long ago, without understanding what it truly meant.

Erik was the Phantom.

Erik was threatening people to obtain what he wanted.

She knew where he was coming from, and why he did it, but… It unsettled her. And she would have to make a decision.

Could she accept such a behavior from him?

But she was still basking in the afterglow of their night together, their kisses, their embrace, and she didn't want to consider ending it, not yet. Not when nothing serious had really happened. Perhaps if she asked him, he'd stop?

She followed the rest of her team to the theater in Frontierland, barely noticing that they were very, very close to a secret door leading to his home underneath.

And, then, she started to work, preparing the theater, the ropes for the waiting line, checking what needed to be checked before the first of the 6 shows of her shift, before the 6 others of the evening shift. It would be a busy day.

And yet, as they were nearly ready, waiting for their team leader to come and sign the sheets to officially be able to open the theater, bad news came from the stage manager: their leading Elsa for the day, Carlotta, was very sick and couldn't attend, and unfortunately, there was no one to replace her, the other leading ladies blocked in transportation and unable to attend before at least two hours. And the first show would begin in 30 minutes.

"We're going to have to cancel the first few shows, until the other one arrives."

"Or you could replace her now, with one of our own," Meg suggested.

The stage manager blinked.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, miss. Why would you be able to replace our Elsa?"

"Well, we've been tending to the shows since they began, and also watched the rehearsals take place, so we all know the part by heart. And my colleague, here, Christine, had been taking singing lessons for a few months, and she has the right voice and build for the role. Elsa is an important but rather small part. She could sing it quickly, and nobody would even see she wasn't originally the right performer."

Christine felt her jaw drop. What was that trick pulled on her? She addressed a blazing glare to her friend, demanding she stop this charade this instant.

But unfortunately for her, the stage manager seemed to consider it.

"Well… I suppose we can try the part, as it is rather small. Come here, now, yes, on stage, don't be shy, and let me…"

He returned to the studio, to start the music.

"Now, go!"

She took a deep breath. After all, Meg was right: she did know the role by heart, and had often done the movements along with the actors, to move the audience as well.

_It was just like with Erik_, she told herself. _Just breathe, and it'll be fine._

She started then, and saw all her colleagues, including her team leader, and Raoul, watching her with awe and wonder in their eyes. Slowly, she started to feel more confident, to become the role, and as soon as it had begun, the song ended. Not three minutes had gone by.

The stage manager clapped with excitement.

"Good, very good! Now that will be unconventional, but you could save us a few complaints, I must say, with such a busy day. I'll argue for you, should my directors object to this decision. Now go and get ready, we'll begin in twenty minutes!"

And so she was swept up by another comedian, the one who played Anna, and went to the dressing rooms. She put the dress on, the make-up, the wig, and giggled softly. This morning, she'd been Ariel, and now, she was Elsa. That was the magic of the parks, right?

"Don't worry," the girl playing Anna said. "You'll be nervous, but you'll do fine. You've seen it enough to remember what to do, and your voice is amazing, much better than Carlotta's. Just remember to smile, and they'll love you!"

She squeezed her hand, and she was off, her much larger role which required her to be on stage earlier.

She breathed deeply. She could do this. That was what he'd trained her for, after all…

Oh… oh… He was surely there, to watch her, wasn't it? And what if he not only knew, but had been the one to get rid of the other singer?

She pushed these thoughts away. It would do no good to think about it now, while she could do nothing about it. She'd confront him later, for she was sure he'd find a way to meet with her after the show.

She hurried down, knowing it would soon be her part coming. She went to her position, remembering where she would appear.

The lights went out and the public seemed thrilled, ready for her. The first notes of the song, _her song_ began, and she softly started to sing, her voice resonating very differently in the theater because of the mic.

The curtain in front of her parted and she appeared on the top of her castle on stage, smiling, as she greeted the public squealing and applauding. She went on, putting herself in the role she knew by heart, her hands accompanying the smoke replicating her ice powers, heart beating wildly.

She sang the final note, her arms thrown in the air, in her final pose. The public applauded even more, as Anna came to her side, for them to embrace as they did in the movie. She had a final line before it was over:

"I declare you all Citizens of Arendelle!"

And in a final round of applause, they saluted, and exited the stage.

She breathed a sigh of both pleasure and relief.

"You were amazing!" Anna smiled. "I had shivers during that song, and God knows I've heard it…"

"Thank you!"

She wouldn't cry. Not here.

The stage manager came as well, sighing with relief.

"You were wonderful! Now you can do it again for the next shows!"

"Now come, we have an hour before the next show starts," Anna said, catching her arm to bring her back to their breakroom, where they could relax between the shows.

But she wanted to be alone, for a moment. To take in everything that had happened. Relax, and prepare.

"Just give me a minute, will you?"

Anna nodded gently.

"Of course. See you there!"

*-* Try at Anger

She went away, leaving her in the back of the stage, followed by the others who came by to congratulate her, and then were on their way. Soon she was alone, while the Guest Flows were gone to prepare the stage for the next shows. Meg wasn't here, as she had hoped she would.

She sighed, and went up the stairs to her dressing room. The others weren't there, but she could hear them laugh in the break room a bit further away down the corridor in the building housing everything they needed to prepare for the shows.

She sat down in front of the mirror, and then she knew.

"You set me up, right?" she whispered in the silence.

He seemed to appear right out of the shadows.

"Congratulations, my dear."

He held out a beautiful red rose, held by a black ribbon.

"It was you, wasn't it?" she repeated. "Carlotta, unable to perform, and I put in her place? It was all your doing?"

"I'm afraid, my dear, I'm quite innocent in that. And you were positively delightful."

"That's not the point! Erik… I wasn't ready!"

He sighed once, and looked into her eyes.

"I only speak the truth: I had no hand in making you appear on that stage. I knew you were ready, and thought you perfect. You were, Christine. _You really were_… Now… Won't you take it?"

His voice held the pleading, almost childish quality on that last request. She could do nothing else but take it. And she was glad she did, for he smiled. A genuine, beautiful smile, reaching deep into his eyes. They shone with pride and love.

That she could learn to accept.

The rose was beautiful, smelled nice and was soft to her touch. No thorns adorned its sides. And the ribbon was velvet black, almost shining. Smooth and warm.

He seemed nearly reluctant to approach her, after that.

She found she needed to touch him, to reassure her. She reached out, taking his hand and holding it over her shoulder. Softly, he squeezed it.

"I mean it, dearest. You were exquisite. And it was too short to really appreciate your talent."

"Well, maybe next time I'll take the largest role, right?"

"If you wish it, you need only audition, and they'll be at your feet, begging you to take it."

"Erik…" She turned to meet his eyes. "I may know how to sing, now, thanks to you, but I also need to act. I… I don't know how to do that…"

"You will learn. You will be amazing. I have no doubts about it."

His eyes were piercing, unbelievably soft and intense at the same time. She could lose herself in those eyes. The confidence and adoration he had when he looked at her so…

"I must leave now, dearest. Go and be with your friends. I'll be watching you for the next show."

She nodded.

"Right… Thank you for the rose, and… Everything else."

"You are most welcome," he said, bringing her fingers to his lips to kiss them softly.

She squeezed them, and in a breeze he was gone.

Again, the air seemed to be colder once he'd disappeared. She got up and went to the breakroom, seeing Anna and her fellow performers, but also Meg and Raoul. Meg came running at her, hugging the breath out of her.

"You're finally here! Took you long enough!" Meg exclaimed. "Congratulations! I knew you were good, but I had no idea you'd be _this_ good!"

Meg squeezed her friend's hands and nearly danced with her, full of joy and pride.

Then Raoul came, awe in his eyes.

"I don't have words, Christine. I mean, waouh…"

She smiled, and took him in her arms as well. It felt good, this triumph thing. She could almost get used to it…

"Thank you very much."

He held her tight, but his body felt strange against hers. Different from the one she'd just seen. Erik had remained at a distance, and she'd gad to reach out to him. She broke free, as other Guest flows came in the room.

"Break's over now, guys," a girl called Gina said. "Time to go."

Her friends seemed reluctant to leave her, but they did, returning to their positions.

"See you at lunch!" Meg called. "Have fun and bring it on!"

Christine laughed sweetly, her heart full of love for her friend, for her enthusiasm at seeing her perform. She waved them goodbye, and sat down with the others. They looked at her with new found appreciation, it seemed. Before, they had been in cordial terms, no doubts about that, but the performers were a category of their own and often found themselves not mingling with those charged with ensuring the safety and comings and goings of the audience, despite working in close quarters. Most of the time, they were ignored, to put it very simply. Some of them were friendlier, for sure, but Christine had always felt a divide between them. And now that she was part of them, a link between her team and the one she'd reluctantly joined, she knew they were on uncertain feet. Not knowing what to do with her, when she'd so blatantly outperformed them all, with her brief appearance. Still, every one of them did the job and was needed, and despite their grudges, she thought it best to put it behind them, to forget it all, and have a new start. Anna seemed very much on her train of thoughts.

"I'm glad we have you now with us, so that we can further our links. We've been working together a long time, after all."

That they did… Even though the performers were sometimes small contracts, just for the rehearsals and shows and then were gone, some were regular EPC cast members, here to serve for the period and then going back to the parade or wherever was needed as characters and dancers. And these last had sometimes been here a long time and sometimes even _had_ worked in her team in the past. These were most often the nicest.

"I hope so," she replied.

Her heart beat a bit slower now, as she realized what had happened, but as the time of the next performance approached, she found her stress soared again.

Anna seemed to see it, and reached out to grasp her hand.

"You've done it once, perfectly," she told her. "You will do it again. And don't worry, I always have the jitters too, even if I've done this a thousand times before. It'll get more manageable."

She nodded, not trusting her voice. The first time, she had not really known what to expect, and she'd gone with the flow. Now, she knew exactly what was waiting for her. The lights on her, nearly blinding, the small wind from the hastily designed theater, the heat, on this warm summer day. The thrill of the public watching her, how forgiving they would be, she knew, if even a big mistake occurred. These were a won audience. They knew what they were going to see. But him… He would know exactly when she faltered. When she almost fell down the steps to reach Anna and her mark, center stage. When she couldn't remember if she gestured left or right first.

Her anxiety must have shown on her face again, for Anna squeezed her hand again, before standing.

"I have to go, it's time for me… Breathe, and it'll be alright. See you on the stage, sis!"

And she was off, nearly bouncing, checking quickly her reflection on the mirror.

The rest had scattered away while she was deep in thoughts, and again, she was alone. She breathed, and stood as well.

She could do it again, and she would do it again.


	10. 10 - Performances & Guest Flow Day (II)

_Hello dear readers! To make up for the short chapter 9, here's chapter 10 as well! Hope you enjoy it! And happy reading! =)_

* * *

*-* Performances and Guest Flow Duty

The next two performances were a breeze, and each time it got a bit easier to climb the stairs to her position on the stage. Each time, she put herself even deeper, more intently in her role. Each time, she reached out more to her loving fans, and her smile felt truer, even to herself.

He hadn't been to see her, but she knew he was there, hiding. Her voice, her acting, her passion, it was all thanks to him, now. That she could even be on the stage and doing this was only happening because of him. True, Meg had pushed her up there, but she only did it because she'd known Christine had taken voice lessons and could do it easily. _Thanks to him_.

So at the end, before leaving, she turned to him, hiding up there, reaching out and bowing her head, her hand over her heart.

It was as much for her as it was for him.

Then it was finally time to have lunch, and she went up to take off her costume gratefully, back into her blue one, impatient to go and see Meg.

She had barely seen her during the performances, catching her dancing with a huge grin on her face, having the time of her life, and it'd brought her back to when she was down there with her, smiling and gossiping about the performers, and how some were oh so delicious…

Now, she got down, to see her waiting for her, in her blue costume.

"I'm famished," her friend smiled. "Let's go."

And together with the rest of their teams, they went to the Ima building close by, where the restaurant was. Waiting in line, they chatted about the morning they'd had. She always loved coming here, despite the crowds. At the beginning she couldn't stop looking at all the costumes, from the two parks and hundreds of employees eating together. The purple formal from the Tower of Terror, or ToT, in their language. The rocky black of the Rock and Roller Coaster team. The white sketched shirt of the production 3, Animation team. The red of the other Guest flows. And of course, some even more special, a blue genie eating with his team of performers.

They found seats near the water fountain, and dived in. It was always a noisy environment, but most of the time it'd provided comfort for her. Was harder to lose herself in her messy and sad thoughts when it was so chatty and she could barely hear herself think.

And it was soon over, 45 minutes always too short.

They got up and left the building, under the hot sun of summer.

"What I'd give for some of your ice powers," Raoul laughed, playfully elbowing her. "We'll be burning out there."

"If I could, I'd start with me," she answered with a smile.

Yes, she could do it. The two teams had blended, Anna not leaving her side, bringing the rest of the performers with her, and Meg had also refused to leave her alone, along with Raoul. The look he had when he looked at her had changed since this morning. It had turned impressed and almost deferent. And it frightened her a bit. She didn't want to deal with his lovesick, puppy eyes, when she'd almost certainly break his heart. She'd given her own already, and she would never take it back. And she remembered everything had started last week when she'd met him again, after her Angel had seen them together. She'd linked the two events, of course, despite how ridiculous it was.

"I'm usher right, for this show," Meg said. "And you, Raoul, you're… Greeter! Cool, you'll need the umbrella. And the sunscreen!"

He seemed put off by the fact he wouldn't be inside.

"I won't be able to see you for the last one," he pouted.

Right. The one who could replace her would finally be arriving this afternoon, and she'd be able to go back to her usual role, after this show.

"Don't worry," she promised. "I'll be singing loud enough so you can hear me. And… Who knows? I might even apply for the next season…"

He brightened.

"Please do! They'll take you in a heartbeat!"

"Raoul! Time to go!"

He waved at her, before leaving to go onstage and be the greeter. As its name suggested, he had to greet and inform the public, as well as direct them into the main area of the theater, where the ushers then placed and guided them.

Meg would therefore be on her left side, as she was usher right. Her friend loved that position. She could go and dance with the audience, all while being at her post. The perfect combination.

She went up to her dressing room, put on the dress, the make-up and the wig, once again looking at Elsa in the mirror. One last time she would go up those stairs and on the stage. She was still frightened, and as Anna had said, perhaps she always would be. But the rush… The exhilaration of the public, their energy, giving back as much as she gave them… The thrill, pure and relentless… She'd grown fond of it. She would almost be reluctant to part with it tonight.

Almost.

She smiled, in the warmth of the afternoon. If he was there, in all his black clothes, he'd surely be too warm, as well. She knew he wouldn't come to see her, not with everyone present here, waiting for their time on stage, but _he was there_, not far. She felt it in her heart.

And one by one, they went away, as the stage manager, they all called Monsieur Reyer, for his sweet but formal disposition, freaked out one last time on their lateness, "the theater was full, people had waited for the three shows in a row to go back and see this, we can't be late!" She'd known it from afar, that usual drama. They had much of their own to deal with and it'd been enough. But it seemed, no longer could she turn a blind eye to their problems, as she'd done before. Now she was part of them, and their problems were her own.

She was left alone in the dressing room, as she warmed up her voice, one last time. His own sounded, sweet and low, filling the room.

"I thought I heard you claim you wished to audition, did you not?"

And so she had, foolishly, to her colleague and almost friend.

"I did. But… It was mostly to appease him. I can still wait."

"If that is your wish… We'll talk about it some more tonight, if you wish to join me?"

"It'll be my pleasure," she answered earnestly.

"Then I shall see you in the music room. Good luck for this last performance, my dear. They will love you, once again."

And he was gone, and it was her cue. She could hear the public impatient for her arrival, singing at the top of their lungs, to wait for her.

She slowly descended the stairs, and then up to the stage, to wait until the curtain opened and she was revealed. The smile, on her face, wasn't faint or pretending. She was glad to be there. She could feel she belonged there, too.

And her voice began to soar once more, as the public joined her, tears in their eyes. And then it was over. She bowed again, a hand over her heart, nearly crying, too.

She hugged Anna, and they saluted one last time. And she went backstage. Put off the make-up, the wig, the dress, back into her blue clothes. There. Now she could go back to her usual work.

She was out of the dressing room to go and consult about her schedule with her team when Anna came. She kept forgetting her name…

"You're leaving? Already?"

"Well, Natalie will be arriving soon, now, so… I can go back to work."

Her ex-sister smiled sadly, and held out her hand.

"For what it's worth, I loved having you here with us onstage. You belong there. Truly."

She squeezed her ex-sister's hands, and then went back to her XP, Gina. She had the radio and coordinated everyone.

"Ah, finished, Christine? You were a fine addition, up there, I've never seen such an amazing Elsa. But I'm glad to have you back. The crowds have been wild, I'm sure you noticed, and we'll need you to help with the greeter, they're getting out of space for the lines…"

"I'll be on my way."

"Alright, I'll tell them."

She spoke fast in the radio, to warn them she'd be coming. And so Christine was out, the hot sun surprising her, after the cool shade of the theater. She joined the greeter and rover, who seemed desperate. The crowd was, as announced, terrible.

"Christine!" Meg screamed. "You're here! Thank God! Could you go and help out over there? I have to remain here to deal with these people, I swear they have been here for the past four shows we've had… Don't they have other things to do?"

She nodded, and followed the line. The pushchairs "parking" had become a mine field. She slowly went to create a passage pushing them to the side, neatly rearranging them in order. When that was over and it didn't look like a giant new mother shopping day, she went along the line. In all her years here, she had very rarely seen so many people so early before a show. They had run out of space, and had to redirect the people. The rover seemed overwhelmed too, and was glad to see her.

"Hello everyone, the next show will be full! If you begin waiting now, the next show's at 6:30. It will be in English. Yes, I'm sorry, that's in three hours. Please could you… Thank heavens, Christine, you're here! Help me! These people, here, I've told them three times to move, and they refused. Could you go and help?"

Full of her confidence and authority, she drew to her full height, and began telling them gently but firmly that they had to move. Other people had been waiting much longer than they had to be in the queue, and it wasn't right. She remained polite and firm, and with much grunting and complaining, they finally joined the back of the queue.

They began directing the rest of the people, as she occasionally went up and down the queue, to see how the crowd began entering the theater. She reminded them not to run, not to push, "they'll be space for everyone, don't worry".

But even she could not work miracles.

When the theater was full and they closed the line, she still had much complaining to face. She was sweating from the hot sun and the comings and goings, but work remained. Still she could remain under the umbrella to inform the guests and pay less attention to the queue.

By the time the show started, she'd regained a little bit of coolness, her bottle nearly empty. She badly wanted to take off the beautiful but heavy blue over shirt they had to wear, to be in the white blouse underneath. But so far, orders had been to remain fully dressed. And then the music started, and she kept an open ear to the show. Meg was at her side, nearly smug when the new Elsa appeared to sing.

"Now, that is not nearly as good as you, is it?" she whispered.

She dared not reply anything, because it was the truth. She'd been much better. But this was a one-time thing, to help out the other team. Now she was back with her own kin, and loved it. Truly, the rush was different, but no less good. It required different skills, and she was always thirsty for knowledge these days. Much like _him_.

She pushed him out of her thoughts. If she started now, she wouldn't be able to wait until she finished her shift. And that would not do.

He consumed her thoughts, in ways she'd always dreamt of, and yet feared. It was intense, this love of theirs. And still, she did not know what he looked like. She had loved his hands, the beauty of his fingers, the soft skin of his lips, thin as they might be. Her body was aching for him, for more, but she couldn't, couldn't yet ask this of him. Not when the barest touch had him freaking out.

She again tried to push him from her mind, as the swarm of people came out of the theater, some of them hurrying to their side to demand "where had the other Elsa gone? When was she coming back?" Meg nearly stuck out her chest, the proud mother with her child, even though she couldn't reveal her identity. That was rule number one: they were the real characters. No other existed.

"It was the real one, what do you mean? Surely this was a mistake. Maybe she'd had a cold and her voice was not as good as before?"

"Elsa, a cold?" Christine intervened, softly mocking her friend. "No, don't worry, she sang too much and her voice needs a bit of rest. Which is why she didn't sing as beautifully as before."

They didn't seem convinced, and tried to pry the truth out of their mouths, but the girls were used to that, and never derived from their claims. If they weren't satisfied with Elsa's performance, they could always say that to the complaint board.

They finally left them alone, and they were able to go back inside, for their last show. Before long, the second team would come and relieve them, to take the second half of the daily performances.

Christine was usher right, as well as Raoul. He'd won the short stick and could remain inside as well, while Meg went to the usher left.

He was grinning to be here with her.

"What a perfect end to a perfect day," he giggled.

She laughed, and nodded.

Yes… It truly was… But it may be the end of their shift, but certainly not the end of her day. She had still much to do, and she couldn't wait to go back to him.

The last show seemed to last eternally, with the same people complaining about the weaker Elsa, and the reluctant way the guests were going to their allotted seats. When the other team arrived, she very nearly couldn't help her relieved sigh.

She waved at them, and as her XP said:

"Good luck with the rest of the day. It'll be awful."

They groaned with that, some laughed, even, but then noticed how deadly serious she was.

"I mean it. These crowds, I haven't seen them like this since we had a meet and greet with Elsa in the Princess Pavilion. They were as wild as these."

An old Guest Flow member, Fred, who had been there during that delicate time, asked then:

"You're kiddin', right? What for?"

Thankfully, her XP didn't point out who they had to blame for this and just shrugged.

"I have no idea. The Frozen madness, you could say… Now, people, let's go! Good luck!"

And they were off, returning to the base all together, leaving a very bewildered second team behind.

"We'll hear them complaining tomorrow," Meg giggled. "Poor them…"


	11. 11 - Love Duet Evening

*-* Love duet evening

At the base, they were sitting down, waiting for the end of the shift. They still had a few minutes, and a Team leader there intercepted them.

"I've had knowledge of what happened today at Chap. It seemed you did well, Christine, and almost too well. They are sad to have you gone now, I've heard from the last two shows. Thank you for your dedication. You didn't have to, but you did, and we all avoided a 101. And the rest of you, you did well to perform without a team member, and that is to be noticed as well. Thank you all for a difficult day!"

They all applauded each other, but Christine was looking down. She wasn't used to such praise, and it always felt a bit false. But Meg was again bouncing excitedly at her side.

"We'll have a key, right? We can't have such a speech and not be rewarded…" she stage-whispered to her.

The team leader smiled.

"That was what I was going to say next, Meg. You will all receive an efficiency key. And you, Christine, a Show key. May there be plenty more for all of you!"

"Yes!" she cried, hugging her friend so hard she almost couldn't breathe, but she squeezed her friend back. "Mom will be sooo happy!"

"Good job to you all! Now off with you, good night!"

And then, after the cheers had died, it was time to badge out. She was among the first out of the door, Meg's hand in hers.

They went back to Ima to get changed. She felt tired, but also regenerated, the way only a good day's work could do. Settled in her self.

She hugged her friend goodbye, and she had to calm herself, a few times, as she made her way to his music room. Her performances, so short, had filled her with a deep longing for more. More songs, more music. And him.

She was alone when she sat down at the piano, but didn't stay that way for long. Now she was so attuned to his voice, she could feel him approach.

"Good evening Erik," she smiled.

"Good evening, dearest."

And there he was. She had to stop herself from running to hug him. Instead, she walked up to him, with purpose, and took him into her arms.

"I'm so glad I'm here with you, nobody around," she whispered.

For a second, he seemed again at odds with her body next to his, but soon calmed himself and brought his arms around her.

"I am glad as well, my dear."

They remained embraced for a moment, simply enjoying the peace and quiet of their two hearts beating together, the warmth around them. And then she walked away, reaching out to take his hand.

"Shall we sing, now, Maestro?"

It was a new name for him, that she'd heard and liked. It fit him perfectly.

"As you wish, my dear. What would please you tonight?"

"Something long, and difficult."

He smirked.

"Weren't this morning's performances enough for you, then?"

"Not nearly enough. It only served as an appetizer. And I would like more."

"As you wish, my dear."

And he sat down at the piano, feeling her hands upon his shoulders, and began to play. She smiled. She knew the song, but had rarely sung it. Her voice had not been powerful enough then for such a song. They had never rehearsed it yet, but she could feel the thrill of music in her veins, urging her to sing, loud and strong.

So she did.

At first, keeping in the slow start of the song, then growing into it, reaching out into her core to push the notes out, riding the rush as if it was an orgasm. For that was what some part of these rehearsal had become. A purely pleasurable experience, growing more corporeal each day, instead of a mind-only delight. And the chorus rang out, she had to move, going away from him, to bring out her body in that completely. She went to face him. He noticed her moving, and looked up to her. Their eyes met, as she sang the words, purely to him, softly again, and then her voice soaring, holding the notes long, pure and clear.

There she was, complete, with him, with their music. And he looked at her again, holding her gaze, deep with admiration, adoration, love. So much love…

She finished it, and he started another, a duet. They still hadn't sung this one either, and she was not as familiar with it as with the others, but he noticed it, and went to fetch the sheet music so that she could sing with him.

His tone resonated deep and strong, and yet he drew so much emotion in it as well, soft and smooth at times. It was almost a spiritual experience, when they sang together. She felt she could die, from hearing him, listening to their voices combining as one, as if she was one with the universe, with him, joined by something deeper and stronger than blood, than death, than faith. She would give her soul, her entire self to be united in song with that man she loved, she so loved… Her heart would burst if she fell any more in love with him.

And again and again they practiced, barely talking, but communicating with their songs, understanding each other in the music. She heard his doubts and his joy at having her there, his love and devotion, and he heard the understanding she had, how she would never, _ever_ leave him. How much she cared and loved him. How there was no one else, but him, and would never be anyone else.

When he drew at a close, finally resting his hands on the keys, she went to his side, and slowly, gently, kissed his lips. He was coming to adore it, this chaste joining of the flesh. He'd read today, when she was away, had studied to see what more there could be, with them together, and he felt a bit less anxious to have her so close. He would be able to cater to her needs, as he knew she had some, and had felt slowly surge inside himself as well.

He brought his hands to her neck, drawing a soft sigh from her lips, in her soft curls, caressing her scalp, then down her back, and she shivered. Gods… The simplest touch had her already halfway gone. She needed him, badly. Down there, she could feel the effect he had on her, but it wouldn't do. Not yet.

She drew back, her lips still tingling most deliciously, and met his eyes.

"I shall be going now," she whispered, all her will focused on that simple, single step backward.

His heart ached to tell her to stay, but he'd been right this morning, and he must be strong tonight. They had to take it slow.

"Yes," he gasped. "Yes, you must," he repeated, more firmly.

He brought his lips to her hands, finding he loved to kiss her fingers so much. Her delicate, small and elegant hands, with their small thin fingers, so soft and warm.

"Have a safe journey home, dearest. And good evening."

"Good night, Angel. I love you."

"I love you too."

And then, she took a second step backward, turned, and didn't look back. It might have been the hardest thing she'd done, but she'd done it.

So she returned home, an ache deep in her loins that she knew she would have to take care of once she was safely in bed.

*-* Thoughts, learning and despair

Casting his duties aside, taken aback by the intensity of these feelings he'd never felt before, he went to his computer and looked for what exactly it was he was feeling for her. Was this desire? It was as strong as love, intense and shattering. Leaving him all hot and bothered. He spent most of the evening in this pursuit of knowledge, and after three hours he'd found more than enough to guess at what it was. It both disgusted him and attracted him. And yet, he had very little effort to do to imagine himself with his Christine, in those attractive, very seducing situations. He could feel his body awaken, too, the way he'd seen described on those websites. It was both pleasant and painful. And now, not only his heart, but his body ached for her to come back to him.

But he had to make it special. Once he was finally comfortable enough with himself… Because, that was the problem… She… She would never want him that way. She said she did, or had hinted so, but… With his body, it… It couldn't be true. If he had the body of that boy, who had followed her with puppy eyes all day, it would be easy. But him… Scars, hurt tissues, and deformed, that was what covered all of him. His hands alone, had been relatively spared. But the rest of him… She'd faint, run away if she saw him for who he really was. And the mask… Surely if she saw him fully, she'd want to see behind the mask. And he could not, would not risk it. And yet… He could feel his time running out. Soon, her curiosity would win, and he'd be unable to deny her. And he'd lose everything…

He wept then, tears of despair at the way he could have known a piece of happiness and warmth, only to have it snatched away when he thought all was won.

He'd never had an easy life, and things were not about to start now, despite how much he wished for it.

*-* A new day

She'd almost forgotten the next day was an open shift. Starting at 7:30. The good side was she'd be able to go and see him early. The bad side was… She had too little sleep these days, and she wouldn't be getting a good night's sleep tonight either.

But it was what she wanted, right? Spending nights and evenings with him were definitely worth the lack of sleep.

But now she was home, alone, all the thrill surged back into her, and she fell into bed, suddenly exhausted. She put her alarm on and promptly fell asleep.

She arrived at Ima the next morning, tired and with a small cup of coffee to wake her up before she went to change, greeting the other unlucky people who were there with her at 7:00. Like he used to do a few times, he would probably meet with her that morning when she was alone, to talk a little, just a voice in the already warm and light air.

She changed back into her red costume and made her way to the base. The quiet felt pleasant after the rush of yesterday, and as she crossed the Main Street, she turned her head to greet the castle. It was always there, magnificent pink against the pale blue sky, its golden turrets sparkling in the sunlight, a warm and reassuring presence. Her heart always felt at home when she saw it.

Meg wasn't here, as she had a later shift, but Raoul was. He seemed very, very glad to be here alone with her that morning.

"So, back in the job, right?" He lightly asked, smiling as usual despite the early hour.

"Yeah. It'll be quiet, hopefully."

"I hope so, after the frenzy we had yesterday…"

He shook his head, and then his gaze changed a little, looking at her with both intensity and shyness. He meant business.

"I was wondering, you know, we finish early, and… Well… Maybe we could… Go have a drink this afternoon? Together?"

She almost felt for him. So shy and hesitant. But she couldn't. She shook her head sadly.

"Sorry, I have my singing lessons this afternoon."

"Oh…"

He tried to hide his disappointment, but she could see straight through him.

"Maybe another time, then?"

"Sure! Here, give me your phone number, and I'll text when I have a free evening."

That was easy enough to promise, and after all, maybe it'd be good to see other people… The gods knew Meg had always pestered her to go out more. With this, she might regain an old friend. If her Angel didn't feel too threatened by this… She didn't want to antagonize him, either, but she had a right to go out and meet other people. She wouldn't negotiate on this.

"Thank you!" he beamed at her.

Okay, maybe she had to tell him so that he wouldn't get his hopes up for nothing.

"Just so you know," she gently added, "I have a boyfriend. But I'd really like us to be friends, like before."

Boyfriend… It felt weird to describe him as such, considering the intensity and strangeness of their relationship. It felt too normal, mundane. What they had… Was different.

He nodded, slowly, as well disappointed again, but she knew it was for the best. The sooner he accepted it, the sooner he'd move on and be able to be a real friend for her.

He remained quiet until the other arrived for their shift. The atmosphere was always quiet on those morning briefings. They discussed the information, took radios, maps and information sheets, and they were off to their assigned position.

Back to where she had started to sing, where he had heard her. If she was lucky, she might even hear him again this morning.

It was always eerily quiet, and different in summer than it'd been in December. The soft sunlight painted all the trees and lawns and buildings in red and gold, and the birds were chirping incessantly. She could almost feel the park breathing, the smell of the grass in the air, as well as the popcorn being prepared in the shops nearby. It was a particular blend of scents, which filled her lungs and reminded her of home.

And then, she caught his scent on the breeze, and there he was, hiding, but his voice softly resonating in her ears. Just for her.

"Good morning, my dear."

Just hearing his voice brought a deep sense of longing and ease inside her. Like it caressed and soothed her tiredness away.

"Good morning, Angel."

"I trust you slept well last night?"

"I did, actually. Fell into bed and asleep, just like a baby. What about you? Did you catch any sleep at all?"

She knew he had difficulties falling asleep, that was obvious from what she now knew about him.

"Thankfully, yes. The night crew performed remarkably well, and did not provide me with any cause of malcontent, therefore I could rest for a while."

She smiled. She always loved his pattern of speech, so refined, and elegant. In another life, and different circumstances, he could have been a lawyer. A professor teaching. He could have been so many things, had the world been kinder to him. And yet, part of her was thankful for the way he was, because there was very little chance they'd have met and fallen in love otherwise.

"Are you planning on watching the shows, today? I'll be stuck here, but I'm sure they're going to need your input, now that Carlotta's back."

She could almost feel his sneer in his voice when he answered, soft but almost deadly.

"Yes, I will need to see if they are performing at their best. But I have to meet with the parade, and your team as well. Yesterday's was positively dreadful."

Yeah, she'd heard of it this morning in the briefing. Despite their lectures of the previous days, both the EPC and her team had been overwhelmed by the crowds, and had done a poor job of maintaining the crossings free of guests. There had been no accidents, but they had come close several times, and that was unacceptable.

"Don't be too hard on them," she whispered. "It _was_ a difficult day."

"Not worse than some we have had in the past, but I think a little reminder will help them take things seriously again."

"Alright, you know best, after all."

He fell silent for a while, then cautiously asked:

"I thought I heard you saying you had a boyfriend…"

She nearly blushed and was angry at the same time. So he had been listening to them, in the base?

"I thought I'd told you not to spy on me in the base, Erik. Why can't you allow me a little privacy?"

His voice, when he answered, was full of guilt and anguish.

"I'm sorry, my dear… I… It's hard for me not to follow you everywhere you go… I'm so used to going and watching over everyone… But I promise, I shall not listen to your discussions from this moment forward."

She nodded.

"I will hold you to that. But yes, I told him about us. That's what we are, right? I mean, it's unconventional, but…"

"We are what it pleases you to call us, dearest. I'm… More than honored to be called your boyfriend."

The way he said it, made her smile. Such an ordinary word, in his cultured mouth, created an almost humorous effect.

"I will see you this afternoon, right?" she asked.

"Of course, if it pleases you, I shall be waiting for you at the end of your shift."

"It does. I didn't get enough of you last evening," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

But he did. And his whispers almost made her moan, caressing and so, so enticing, seducing. Like the prelude of a dark, beautiful, sensual romance.

"Neither did I."

Then the opening announcement resonated in the park, and he was gone.

She held back her sigh of frustration. _Great_. Now she'd be hot and bothered for the rest of day.


	12. 12 - Mask off

*-* Mask off 1

Well. Despite what she'd hoped and told Raoul this morning, today _wasn't_ a slow day. They had a riot at Chap. Guests refusing to move until they've had what they called the "real" Elsa sing. Christine had been called along with others to help out control the crowds. Some annual pass-holders, most of the time perfectly sane and sweet people, had turned positively feral. By word of mouth and the social networks, her performances had been broadcasted far and wide on the net, and expecting people had come to hear her sing, only to discover she wouldn't ever be there.

Their Team Leader had been called to help, as well as the EPC Team Leader. The stage manager, the same as yesterday, was shaking from head to toe, unable to do his work.

The situation nearly exploded a few times, but thankfully didn't. And after much convincing, the expecting crowds were turned away, and the usual hesitant hopeful guests were ushered in.

She came to the base to badge out tired and too warm. Thankfully, she was off for the next two days… And she'd need it. She had a bad feeling about this situation.

She badged out, waved goodbye at Raoul and quickly went to change. And she made her way to his music room. He was there, already waiting for her, and this time she couldn't resist, she threw herself in his arms and kissed him thoroughly. When she stepped back, she looked mortified at the way he'd been a bit tensed.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Erik… I… I mean… I just missed you so much, I… I didn't think… Please forgive me… I'll…. I'll mind my manners, I promise."

He whispered after a long silence.

"It's quite alright."

He still seemed stunned. He kept touching his lips, as if he couldn't believe what had happened.

"Would you… I mean… Could we? Do it again?"

This time, she beamed at him, and slowly approached him, holding him in her arms and kissing him, gently, slowly, and then the passion she'd held back all day came back with a fury, and she was desperate and needing him.

He held her to him, caressing her hair, delighting in the way she felt pressed to his body, her warmth, her sweet scent, the softness of her skin, as he carefully moved his hands on her back, to cup her cheeks, as she'd done, to her neck, how strong her pulse rushed there, and he had the strongest urge to touch his lips to this enticing area.

And she made the choice for him, when he tried to move down, she accompanied his moves, tilting her head back so he had better access. He gently kissed her there, the way he'd done with her lips, and when she couldn't hold back her moans, he felt emboldened and grew more passionate. She held his head there, shivering with delight.

And then she brought his mouth back to hers, her eyes filled with desire. It both frightened and contented him.

She stepped back, sighing long and happy.

"I wish… I wish I could see your face. It'd be easier to kiss you that way."

And when he seemed to grow frozen, she held his hand, pressed it against her heart.

"My feelings and my desire for you won't go away, no matter how you look. I can promise you that."

"You have no idea what you are asking of me. You will promise, I have faith in you, but even you my dear, will have to go back on your word."

"What can I do to make you trust me? _I love you_."

"There is nothing you can do," he whispered miserably. "I am… Far uglier than in your worst nightmares. A monster… You will flee once you catch a glimpse of my face."

She swallowed. She hadn't actually known the extent of his self-hatred, but here it was apparent. And yet she believed him. Because with the way she pleaded and he wanted her, a mere ugly face wouldn't stop him. He'd said a _monster_.

"Are you like Quasimodo, then? I could be your Esmeralda. Trust me to see beyond your face_. I love you. _You are _not_ a monster."

How he wanted to believe her…

"That's impossible."

She wanted to sigh, to shake him and hold him both, to remind him he wasn't alone. When he was like this, he shut down completely, and she didn't know what the right answer was. Let him move at his own pace or try to push him towards her? How to make him see that she would want him, no matter what?

"Erik, my dear, dear Angel. I trusted you when you were a mere voice in my head. You've never led me astray. Can you not believe I would remain with you should you be the most terrifying person I've ever encountered? Can you not trust me? I would bind myself in place, bind myself to you, if I could convince you I won't go. I won't leave. Please…"

His voice was fully anguished now.

"Please, Christine… Don't ask it of me… I… I can't bear to have you look at me and see the fear in your eyes. And you'll leave… You will. No one can… No one should be with such a _beast_…"

Now he'd changed the tales.

"You of all people should know that some of us are able to look beyond mere appearances, Erik," she assured him. "If a character was able to love a beast, why couldn't I? I love you. I want to love you fully. Completely. And you are no beast… The music you create, the voice you have, it is an angel's voice, and a gift. You are talented, and gifted. Perhaps the greatest genius I'll ever know and meet. These things are part of why I fell in love with you, and they'll never get away if I see your face."

"Christine…"

He looked into her eyes, desperate, and yet, there was a flicker of hope, that had not been fully extinguished after his own efforts to drive her away.

"Show me," she asked gently. "I have no place for fear in my heart. Only love."

He sighed, and trembling, he let her hand go to grasp his mask. With shaking fingers, he slowly took it off, and there he was.

*-*

His eyes closed, not even daring to look at her.

She held her breath and repressed the hint of a scream. He hadn't lied. His face was… Terrible didn't do it justice. He was… A living corpse, that was what might be the closest description. Bare and grey skin, hollowed cheeks, no nose. His lips were thin, and she had not noticed he had a wig, that went off when he took the mask away, leaving only sparse, grey hair.

She drew breath again, trying to look at him, to really look at him. To see beyond the deathly face. He was the man she loved, and there he was, still in the softness of his mouth, in the pale tears glistening under his eyes. Very carefully, she approached him again, and stroked his cheek.

"I love you, Erik," she whispered as she kissed his tears away.

He shuddered, sighing of relief and pain. She took his hands in hers, putting them on her waist, and then went back to gently caress his face. His skin was soft, if not strange in texture. There was sharpness in his jaw, strong lines in all his features. He opened his eyes, then, and she was drawn in them, drowned in their intensity, and the love shining there.

"Christine," he spoke, like a prayer, so reverent and amazed.

She kissed him again, softly, and it was so different, now that the mask didn't hinder their movements, now that she could truly, hold him, touch him.

"Thank you, Angel," she whispered again, "for trusting me."

He couldn't believe it. His own angel had looked at him, and there had been no screams, no harsh words, no fleeing from him. The small seed of hope she had sowed earlier with her words was now watered, ready to grow, impatient to discover that maybe, just maybe, she could actually look at him without fear and love him despite his face.

"How can you bear to look at… This ?" He asked softly.

She stepped back a little to look at him fully. Now that the shock had worn off, she only saw him. The man she loved. And she would grow to love his face as much as she loved his spirit, his mind, his music, his heart.

"It is a part of you. And I love all of you."

He sobbed again, falling at her feet.

"I don't deserve you… My dearest Angel, my love…"

She joined him on the floor, held him against her. Drew small circles on his back to soothe him.

There was no need for words now, as they remained embraced for a while.

He broke free of her embrace, looking at her eyes.

"That you loved me at all was… Unexpected, in a thousand years. Now you have seen me… There are things you must know. I must tell you who I am…"

"Whatever you've done in the past doesn't matter."

She was convinced of it, now nothing would change her heart.

"Still, dearest, you must know."

He stood, helping her to her feet, and they went to the sofa. He lit candles and joined her there, holding her hands in his.

She was quiet, letting him find the words to tell her what he needed to.

She was curious, of course. She wanted to know everything about him. The good, and surely the bad, as well. She feared too what he would reveal of the cruelty of others, as she was sure the world hadn't been kind to him, considering the depth of his trauma. But she was there, now. And she would make sure the world knew who this man was, the genius he hid, the kindness and gentleness he'd shown her.

"I was born 45 years ago, here, in France. My mother couldn't bear to look at me, and she sold me to a freak circle. It was… a bad time. I traveled around, learning where I could. I went to Iran, for a time. Worked under a high born woman whose husband had died. I became a magician, an architect, a musician. I built her a palace and… I grew so dependent I killed for her. Became a master assassin."

He went quiet, observed her intently. She dared not speak, trying to absorb what he meant.

"Eventually she grew tired of me, nearly had me killed. I came back to Europe, lost and desperate. I had escaped death, but… It might have been a respite."

At that, she shivered.

"Never," she whispered, grasping his hand.

"And I heard of this construction. What they were trying to build. I became fascinated with the project. I fell in love with it… And I made my way into it. Built this place underground. Provided them with ideas, music, lyrics… Designs as well."

His face had changed, and where had been brutality and despair there was now enthusiasm and passion, a light in his eyes and less tension in his face.

"I've been here for 25 years. I've tried to infuse it with light and magic, from behind the scenes. Hidden from the world. And here I am. I met you…"

_Yes_, she wanted to say. She was there.

"And everything changed. I had… Never dared to hope I could fall in love, so distorted, deformed… But I did. And even then, I thought it lost. You could never feel anything for me. A voice, a faceless masked man…"

"But I did," she said gently. "I fell in love with you. And what is past _is_ past."

Gently, she kissed him again, caressing the sides of his face. It would be a while before the discomfort she felt about his face would truly wear off, but she was fully determined to do what it took. He was worth it. That and _so much more_…

*-*

They settled in the quiet, afterwards. She needed time to reflect on what he had told her, and he to take into account what this new development might mean for them.

Finally, she stood, bringing him to his feet.

"Will we sing?"

She asked, and so they did.

It was gentle and accepting, a soft duet of love, without fear, without holding back. Her voice sounded the best he had heard her sing yet, full of the deep longing and compassion she felt for him, pure in sound and resonating in what she evoked in him. She spoke in lyrics what she hadn't fully told him: her love was as boundless and relentless as the sea. In turn, he answered, the only way he knew how, and now he bared himself to her, fully disclosing the despair he'd been, the dark paths he'd trodden, and the light and hope at the end of his self-imposed night.

Something would be forever changed after tonight. He would no longer be afraid of her finding out who he was, because for the first time in forever, he'd shown someone the reality of his being, and she had not fled. She had treated him with her usual kindness and showered him with her love. He knew it then: she truly loved him.

He felt a deep, heavy weight fall from his shoulders, he'd become so light, he might actually float. And he wanted to thank her for it, for this lightness, this warmth she brought him.

"Come, dearest. There is something I would like to show you. I think you may like it."

She was surprised, but not in a bad way. She was curious, too, and excited. He took her hand in his, putting the mask in place, as he brought her down other corridors down the park, towards another set of stairs. As they climbed, the atmosphere changed, and the music from outside reached even to her. Her heart stopped. She recognized that music.

"Is it? Is it what I think it is?"

"Where do you think we are?"

He brought her up, and she gasped. There she was. Directly inside one of her favorite rides: the well named Phantom Manor. In the lobby, where the ride was on, but nobody was there but the two of them. And that music, soft and haunting, the voice of the groomless, abandoned bride, full of deep sorrow that drew her in.

"After you, my dear," he gestured for her to climb aboard the boggy.

And then they were off. He draped his arm around her shoulders, as she nestled next to him. Climbing, to the first scene, the sad bride, alone and despaired, endlessly searching for her lover. The hall, full of its southern American feel, the piano in the veranda, the crows and the locked doors. He was very quiet, next to her, and she let herself be transported to that story, where she could feel the pain of the voice, the betrayal and longing for the lovely bride's lost love.

It felt strange, to have it for herself, no noise and no people, but them both. She knew it by heart, having gone there a thousand times, but with him, it was so different.

The strange, alluring crystal ball, and then finally, her favorite scene: the ballroom, and its dancing ghosts. The organ, in the background, powerful and telling of the sad story. In a strange way, it reminded her of him.

There, he stopped it, by no means that she could see, and they disembarked.

"What?"

"Trust me," he asked. "I think you would like to go and see it a bit closer, yes?"

How could she say no to such an opportunity?

They passed through a hidden door, to another flight of stairs, where they descended to the level of the ballroom. There, she could see from close the animatronics dancing and the huge glass windows reflecting them on the upper level. How rich and beautiful the fabrics were, how well the effect worked.

She nearly wanted to dance, there, but she didn't dare, for fear of somehow hurting something. It was tight quarters.

"You know," he explained, "if this window ever shatters, the whole building will have to be redone? This is the one piece that cannot ever be replaced."

She didn't, and she pressed him for more anecdotes, as he went about the ballroom, to the grand organ at the end. Then they went back up, and inside the doomboggy, and continued their darkly romantic ride.

The mirror scene always seemed to break her heart, the pain in her voice so true it nearly brought tears to her eyes. And then they went down again, leaving the building to the graveyard and the small town of Thunder Mesa. Full of skeletons and a different atmosphere altogether, less gothic and more western-like.

She sighed of contentment next to him, kissing his hand in thanks as they exited their vehicle and back down their underground corridors.

"That was an amazing experience, Erik. I don't think I can ever thank you enough for that. I've always wanted to know more about the rides, but… It's always hard to find someone who can show you."

"Well, now dearest, you need only ask, and it shall be done."

"Thank you!"

She embraced him again, warmly, tightly, and this time he didn't hesitate to hold her to him, resting his chin on her sweet curls. Reluctantly, she finally drew away.

"I should return home. It's late, and you must have other things to do."

"As you wish, my dear. I shall be here, whenever you wish to come on your days off."

"Do you have a phone? I could text you and it'll be easier to communicate, that way."

She hadn't thought about it earlier, but it'd also be a great idea to keep him close, despite the distance, on the moments she wasn't on site. Not that she planned on remaining far from him for long, but… One never knew.

"Of course. There."

He fished a phone from the depths of his cloak, and gave it to her.

"Call your phone. There I shall have your number and you my own as well."

She did, glad to have this small real link between them.

"Now I can text you when I'm lonely at night," she whispered a bit seductively.

He repressed his shuddering. She would be his undoing, with her voice like liquid silk and fire in his ears. What she suggested felt almost too good, too incredible, too enticing to be true.

And yet, he wanted to play this game with her. He'd felt his own surges, brought by her words, rise inside of him.

"Mmm," he whispered, the husky and low tone of his voice matching the heat in hers. "You will tell me how you wished I was there with you?"

It was her turn to shiver, as she gazed deep into his eyes, her breathing getting shallower.

"Yes…"

"And… What you wished _I did_ to you?"

Heavens… That voice, how could he… How could he have any right to be this seductive? After all, he'd been afraid to hug her a few days ago! And now, he was… Positively more experienced in this game of theirs…

She felt a flame take over her, from her heart, her chest, and down, there between her thighs.

"Yes," she nearly moaned.

It was working, nearly too well for him too. Her moans, the desire and craving for him that he could recognize in her eyes, made him ache in places he'd never felt pain before.

She took off the mask, and he kissed her, softly, and then more deeply, growing bolder and more adventurous, spurred on by her sighs and trembling. She felt like liquid in his arms, as he began to play with her mouth the way he'd learnt to play his instruments, thoroughly and very, very skilled.

By the time he let her regain a bit of breath, her lips were swollen and she could have made love to him there and then.

But despite his growing confidence, he wasn't still ready for further, barer developments.

And she wanted to savor this, this dance they were slowly learning. It made her whole soul burn with a different kind of flame, and it was a saving grace after the dark and cold quiet despair she'd been in.

She stepped back, again, and after a shallow "Goodnight, Erik", she left to return home.

That night, they both cried out each other's names as they pleasured themselves to a fulfilling, yet a bit unsatisfying orgasm.


	13. 13 - A Drink with Raoul

_Thank you for going on, dear readers! I hope you enjoyed the unmasking and it was all you hoped for! Don't hesitate to tell me so ;) Enjoy reading!_

*-* Meeting with Raoul

The next days were a mix of sweetness and teasing. They never went farther than kissing, although both were beginning to feel that what they had had become insufficient to fully satisfy them.

She never stayed the night, either. That was their unspoken agreement. They played, talked, kissed, and she went home. Now, their dance wouldn't last forever, but until then, they were quite content to waltz together, around the elephant in the room.

He'd taken to leaving his mask off when she was here, and gradually the small discomfort she felt had become a loving fondness. There was beauty in the lines of his face, despite the horror he'd first inspired her. Not ordinary, classical beauty, of course not. But there was harmony, and the way music illuminated him, and joy and love and desire when he looked at her, made him dazzling. And it was him. The man she'd fallen head over heels for.

And every day, she fell for him more and more, at the way he started to relax completely, the way his wits charmed her, and even his playing became sweeter and fonder, as if he finally started to let go and appreciate life. And it was the most welcome change.

At work, things were going great. She might even become an XP, the way things were progressing. Her Team Leaders had been insisting on her taking her responsibilities, but she hesitated. She really liked her life as a Cast Member in "first line", as it allowed her to spend most of her time onstage, and meant never having to take decisions, or being too responsible for others. But now, she might feel ready.

Meg might also change status, but they were both adamant about staying in this team. And Raoul supported them both. And along the way, she'd decided to let him in, at least a little bit. And to do that, the best way was to allow him that drink they'd promised each other.

He'd been persistent in his texts, but she answered cordially, but never inviting discussion. Now she thought that may have been a mistake, but she was so focused on Erik and his mysteries, she hadn't had time and energy to spend on other people. Even Meg had suffered from this, and she knew it had to end.

But first of all, she had to tell Erik. So that he didn't take it the wrong way, and was still sure of her intentions. She had no wish to antagonize him by hiding things, or simply not warning him. He was still very, very unsure of himself, and might take this the wrong way.

So one evening, as she joined him for their usual lesson/practice/make out session, she sat down in the sofa by his side, and held his hands.

"Erik, there's something I need to tell you."

He tensed visibly, but she tried to soothe him.

"Have no fears, Angel, this isn't about you. I don't want you to feel bad about this, so I thought I needed to tell you."

"What is it, my dear?"

"I am planning on meeting with Raoul, my friend. I am not asking you for permission, but I want you to know what I'm doing and why. He's an old friend, and I want to rekindle our friendship. So there might be an evening when I'm not here, because I'll be seeing him."

"Why are you telling me this, then? You're free to do whatever you want."

She sighed, and kissed his cheek.

"I know, Angel. But… I don't want you to feel jealous, or something, if you happened to see us together."

Outside, he tried not to show it, but he was boiling, fears and insecurities rising to choke him.

And she sensed it, perceptive little one that she'd become. Without his mask, it was even easier to read him, as he had had no point before in hiding what he felt on his face.

"I will miss our lesson, but this is for both of our sakes. Spending time without you makes me appreciate even more the moments when I am with you. Erik, my love…"

She kissed him, trying to appease him, to convey the strength of her love and how nothing would make her change her mind.

And under her arms, and the warmth of her body next to him, he began to thaw, taking in her adoration and quiet love, deep within.

"I'll be telling you the date, so that you can prepare yourself," she added softly. "And if you want, we'll meet afterwards."

At that, he shook his head.

"No, darling. Don't stop your fun on my behalf. Live your life. I'll be waiting for you the next day."

"You are part of my life too, you silly man."

She caressed his cheek.

"I trust you won't try to follow us."

He was not offended, because the idea had been making its way in his mind.

"I won't, I promise."

"I'll tell you all about it."

And he kissed her again, and the subject was dropped for the evening.

She had finally decided on a date, with Raoul. It wasn't good to close herself to even friendships, and she did promise him a drink, and she owed it to herself, to spend time with a very old friend.

She had a nice middle shift, ending at 6, just after the parade, and so did he. Earlier that week, looking at the schedules, she'd taken note of that, sent him a text to ask him out, and of course he'd said yes. His enthusiasm had warmed her heart, and reminded her of the right decision she'd made.

She also warned Erik, in advance, so he knew to occupy himself and not to wait for her that evening.

And on that day, she'd been taking special care in her clothes. She didn't want her friend to get any bad ideas, so she'd dressed casually, according to the weather. When she greeted him that morning, when she was prepared for a day of training the new ones for the Princess Pavilion, and he was getting ready to work there as well, he had the biggest smile she'd seen on him yet. Glowing. Her heart fluttered. In different circumstances, that was true, she might have said yes to a different kind of date. He was really handsome, and sweet.

But as she made her way from their base to the pavilion, all documents in hands, with her team, and her protégée for the day, she knew, when seeing the park, the way he liked being here, but without the depth and warmth there always was with Erik, without the meaning and the concern for the guests that was at his heart, that he would only ever remain a friend. He couldn't ever steal her heart the way their mischievous ghost had done. It was a different level, altogether.

They got the Pavilion ready, checking all was well, all the devices worked, and she explained it all to Aurore, who was being trained that day. She told her of the different roles, and when they opened at 10, she showed her how to greet and inform, how to usher the guests in the rooms where the princesses were waiting, how to check the languages they were speaking and greet the Disabled people on the back side, to have them wait less time. From position to position, and then break, and then position again, and finally lunch, she barely had time to think. Aurore was a quick, avid student, and soon she could take the position on her own without fail. She was gentle and sweet with the guests, and efficient as well.

A worthy recruit for her team, and she hoped she would stay beyond her CDD. After lunch, as she was smoothly going through the position, she took time out of the rotation to have her read the guidelines book, checking the special procedures in case of emergency, preparing her for the test she would have the next day, with someone else, surely. Maybe her own XP, Gina, who was a gem of a cast, an older woman, funny and quick-witted and with a booming voice very handy in times of need.

Finally, they went back to the base, where her team was already waiting. The evening team had been quick to go and relieve them of their positions. Raoul was there, an impatient look in his eyes. Anymore and he'd break the muscles of his cheeks smiling like that.

"Ready? She greeted him. "I'll let you choose the bar, if you have a favorite."

"Everything's fine for me," he dismissed with a hand. "As long as you're here."

She blushed. Oh gods, hopefully it wouldn't be awkward if he went on like this… With a drink, or two, she couldn't be sure how he would turn… But she had faith in him. He was gentle and kind, no reasons to worry, right?

They went back to Ima together, to get changed, and then made their way to the Disney Village, or DV.

"Is the King alright for you?" he asked as they passed the door.

He referred to the King Ludwig's bar and restaurant. It wasn't yet packed, with Guests or Cast members, which was unusual for the time and the season. But she wouldn't complain. She really didn't want to deal with the stares and gossips that would start if she, the one who never went out, was seen drinking with a boy of her team. Still, it was warm, and so they took a table out on the street, ready to order and take advantage of the Happy Hours fares.

"We need to go out and order at the bar. What do you want? It's on me," he asked.

"What are you going to take?"

"I'll have a beer."

"I'll have the same," she smiled. "Thanks!"

She hadn't had beer in a while, and though it wasn't her favorite, she still liked it enough.

He nodded and walked inside. It felt strange to be there, outside, sitting down on a sunny day like this. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd done it, with her friends. True, she hadn't that many friends, to begin with, but… When she'd started working there, with Meg, her friend had insisted on bringing her there for the different outings with their team. But after a while, she'd just stopped going. It wasn't fun anymore. The same people, the same talks about work, the guests, and complains, she'd just preferred going home to read or listen to music. Meg had been the only one to keep asking her out and she'd always preferred to go to her home to have a chat. It just felt better than to be out. More intimate. But she wouldn't have felt comfortable inviting Raoul at her flat, and wouldn't have gone to his home, either.

So this was for the best, right?

He came back quickly with their drinks, and she thanked him again.

"To start, Christine, I'm really glad that you accepted to come here."

"It's alright, I'm glad to be here with you. We used to have so much fun, together. Until… Well…"

"I'm sorry, about your parents. I've noticed it was hard on you, but then we left, and… I couldn't contact you. They had me try out the army, in the Marine, but… Well. I just wasn't fit for that. When I came here, I knew you were working there, and I applied to have a reason to live here. I've missed you."

"I missed you too."

And it was true. Now he mentioned it, the ache his departure had made on her heart, already fragilized by her parents' death, was brought back to life again.

"So. Singing lessons, right? How's it going?"

Slippery field, despite his meaning well. How to tell him, without saying too much?

"It's going well, actually. I mean, you must have noticed…"

"Yeah, you were fantastic, the other day. I had shivers for days afterwards, your voice in my ears… I'd never heard better. And I doubt I will, honestly."

"Thank you," she smiled. "I've been taking them for a few months, actually. My teacher, he's… He's a great singer himself, and he has a voice… It's even better than mine. And… Well. He's… He's become my boyfriend."

At that, he took her hand, very gently, and then dropped it again.

"I understand, Christine. If he loves music as much as you do, there's no doubts you found each other…"

A great weight seemed to drop from her shoulders. Despite her hopes, she hadn't dared to believe he would take it so well, no closing off, no changing the subject, but actually acknowledging her choice and never questioning it. It may have been a ploy to deceive her, but… He seemed so honest and true, she didn't want to think so badly of him.

"You have no idea," she whispered, caressing his skin. "He's… I mean, he's extraordinary. So talented, so kind and gentle… He… he was the one to give me my voice back. You know, I used to sing a bit, when we were young."

"I remember."

"But when my parents died, it… It felt as if silence had me in a cage. I couldn't sing, couldn't talk… For a while, I couldn't listen to music at all, I'd break down. But he… He opened that cage. He brought me back to life. And… I like to think I did the same, for him."

"Then I'm glad. Truly glad for you, Christine. If he makes you happy, then that is what matters."

"You're not jealous? She asked, her voice small and hesitant.

He smiled again, honesty and caring in his bright green eyes.

"I've loved you since we were 12," he admitted. "But I can see how in love you are. And while it doesn't change my feelings for you, I know better than to question your feelings or try something. I meant what I said. I missed you, as a person. As a friend. And I hope these feelings will change and we can be friends. I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable."

"I was afraid, but… I was wrong. I'm truly glad you're back in town, Raoul. It'll feel nice to have someone else to talk to, someone who's not looking at me with pity every time I mention I'm an orphan."

"You can count on me."

And then the discussion moved from subject to subject, and she was reminded again how easy it was to talk to him. He was always nice and caring, with a funny sense of humor. She relaxed in her seat, and before they knew it, it was 9 and her stomach was crying out in hunger.

"Would you like to go and eat something?" She asked. "My treat."

"Well, if you want to," he smiled.

They went out to the McDo, near. Cheap and quick, and they sat down at the pier, overlooking part of the lake. It was going to be a very warm night, and sitting down on the wooden planks felt right. Especially near the water, like this. She could nearly forget she was in the DV and back near the sea, where she'd met him and had her summer adventures, back when she was 12.

They went on talking again, and he insisted on driving her back to her home, around 11. After all, they had both open shifts, the next morning, and he would let her have her sleep.

As he stopped in front of her home, she hugged him.

"Thank you for tonight, Raoul. It was really nice. And promise, we'll do it again soon."

"It was perfect. Now go to sleep, and sweet dreams, Chris."

"Drive safely home."

He waved at her, and waited until she'd come inside to leave. Her heart was relaxed, as in a pleasant haze. She texted Erik, to tell him she'd had a nice evening, and missed him, and texted Meg, to tell her she was home.

She had a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and was back in bed. Her thoughts wild and hazy. And yet, things were simple. Things were good, weren't they?

She sat up, in the dark, noticing Erik had answered to wish her sweet dreams as well. And Meg wanted to call her to have a full, detailed account on her night.

Now, she would have to tell her everything. Including why she would never consider Raoul as a potential boyfriend now. But… Maybe they would hit it up, her two friends?

Huh. She'd never make a good match-maker…

She'd had a nice evening, and things were plain and honest between them. So why did she have that nagging, foreboding feeling in her heart?

She opened her phone, and went through her pictures, to see him. She'd taken it once, when he was singing to her. His eyes closed, and yet his face beaming at her. Lost in the music. She'd needed that picture, to have him close, when she was home, alone, and missing him. It never lasted long, because she would be back to see him soon enough, or he would come and see her wherever she was working, but… It felt right. Every girl had their boyfriend's photo in their phone, right? It was… A rite of passage.

"I miss you," she whispered to the darkness. "How I wish I could be spending the night with you, and not alone in my bed…"

And the darkness whispered back.

"I'm here."

She jumped, recognizing his voice. What the hell was he doing here? She sat up again, lit her bedside lamp.

There he was, all in black, with the Darth Vader mask he preferred outside.

"I've been waiting for you."

"Erik. What are you doing here?"

"I needed to check on you." He didn't move, stayed far away from her, nearly hidden by the shadows projected by her tiny lamp. "And you didn't close your windows…"

"I'm at the fourth level! And it's been a warm night."

"Still, my dear. There could have been others to wait for you in the dark, and the safety of your home."

"Like you, you mean."

She didn't mean to say it, and watched him tense. Grow silent. And then his voice was cold, lifeless.

"You're safe, I can leave."

He approached the window, ready to go, but she bolted out of bed and embraced him.

"Please don't. I'm sorry, Angel, I just… You startled me. I told you not to follow me, but… I understand wanting to check up on me, but I texted you, didn't I? I told you I was safe. Trust me."

He sighed, and slowly relaxed in her arms, hugging her back.

"I'm sorry. I was just… Afraid you wouldn't come back here."

She froze. Did he mean?

"You think I would _sleep_ with him? _Betray _you like that? After all we've been through, you thought I would throw it all away after _one_ evening? _One_ drink?"

She was seething now, and yet terrified and desperate. How deep his trauma went, that he couldn't even consider a single evening with a friend not a threat for him?

She took off his mask, to look at him in the eyes, and kissed him. She was hard and demanding, nearly violent against his mouth, to make him see how much she wanted him, and never another. She cradled his head between her hands, not pausing to draw breath.

And then, when she was nearly dizzy with the lack of oxygen, her teeth biting softly his lips, she whispered, darkly and fiercely.

"You're mine, Erik. As much as I'm yours. And never doubt me again. I love you."

He was breathless, amazed at her reaction. If he had doubts, before, now he hadn't. But questioning her integrity hadn't been to assign a fault on her part, but rather on his.

"It's not you I would fault, my dear," he whispered. "You would have every right to want someone else. Someone whole and young and free."

"I don't," she asserted. She caressed his cheek, now, all gentleness and tenderness returned. "And even if I did, hypothetically, I would tell you. I won't ever lie to you."

Silence returned, as she looked into his eyes, still frightened and dazzled. Like a doe in flashlights, unable to move to save herself. She drew back and went to close the window, and rummaged through her closet with her parents' old clothes. Ones she hadn't managed to throw away. She found an old pajama from her father. Old and maybe a little too small for him, but it would do. At least it'd be more comfortable than his suit.

She gave him the clothes.

"Go to change, and come to sleep, now, my love. You're here, and I intend to spend the night with you, just like I said when you came in."

"My dear…"

"Just sleep. Just you and me, clothed, in a bed. That's all I ask of you."

Slowly, he allowed her to bring him to her bathroom.

"If you need anything, ask. I'll be waiting for you."

And she returned to her bed, switching off the lights. He could nearly see in the dark, and he'd be more comfortable that way. She turned to one side of the bed, checking her alarm for the next day. It was past midnight now, with their antics.

She closed her eyes, and listened to the quiet of her apartment. It wasn't big, but it was home, and had been for the past few years. And that's when she realized she had never had him there with her. Never explicitly told him where exactly she lived. But she should have known that this wouldn't deter him. After all, who knew if he'd ever done that before?

For a while, the bathroom was silent, and then, softly, she heard him change, wash up a little, and then tip toeing back to her bed. He hesitated, she could feel it, his slow breathing, nearly inaudible in the silent night, like the shadows he so loved, and then the bed tipped on his side, and he drew the covers over him. He was cold, despite how warm it was, both in her flat and outside.

She let him become more comfortable at the idea of sharing a bed, for real, despite how unplanned it was, and softly crept back toward him, her hand reaching out for his in the dark.

"Would you hold me?" she asked, nearly pleading.

He didn't answer, and for a while she thought he wouldn't oblige her, but a moment later, he pulled her back to his chest, and enclosed her in his arms.

Gods… It felt so good… To be there, with him, his scent in her nose, captivating her. She sighed happily, and felt him tremble behind her.

"It's alright, my love. Thank you. Sweet dreams, Erik."

"I love you, my dearest Christine."

She hugged his arm to her chest, and let herself fall asleep, in the crook of his embrace.

He hadn't planned this. He thought he would check on her, see that she was home, and safe, and then go back to the parks and his duties for the night. But he'd seen her, heard her soft whispers, and hadn't been able to hold his words.

He shouldn't have done this. Questioned her, doubted her. But his fears were so strong, so frustratingly dominant, at times, he couldn't help his words.

She had had every right to be angry, and yet, her anger had felt possessive and furious, and he would never admit it, to anyone, but it had felt right. As if she claimed him, the way she had every right to. He was hers, now, only alive because she'd brought him back. And in her eyes, he saw, if he allowed himself to, what he could become, thanks to her. What had only ever been fantasies, and sometimes, not even those, would perhaps become goals, and in his reach.

He would become worthy of her. Become the man she saw in him, and not the monster he'd been for so long. Not the ghost hiding in the dark, mischievous and feared, but more of a man, fighting for what he wanted. A man she was proud of.

So he'd obeyed her. Put the clothes she gave him and climbed in her bed. And her voice, soft and gentle, had asked him to hold her, and he wouldn't deny her. He couldn't resist, when she was concerned. His heart was at her feet, as was the rest of him.

He loved her, and the feel of her, in his arms, it had nearly lulled him to sleep as well. For once, he'd sleep next to her, and forget his fears. Leave out the world of insecurities he'd had, outside his door. They'd be there when he picked them up again in the morning. But tonight, he would allow himself this night. And he'd deal with it, later, one step at a time.

The dark blue sky was barely lightening when he opened his eyes. He managed to get a few hours of sleep, and almost didn't want to get out of bed, but he had to. He kissed her forehead, went up to get changed. He didn't put on the lights, didn't look at the mirror, as he put on his suit again.

He fished out a pen and paper, and left her a soft message, in red ink, as was his habit.

_My dearest Christine,_

_I hope you had a pleasant night. I shall wait for you tonight, for our usual lesson, if you'll allow me._

_Yours, always,_

_E._

And then he was out of her flat, swiftly climbing down from her window. And remained in the shadows as he walked back to his own home. He still had her perfume in his nose, could still feel her curls on his cheek as he avoided the cameras and into his tunnel, to check on the last night shifts.

As far as he could tell, they had done well, and he would be sure to reward them.


	14. 14 - Meeting with Meg

*-* Discussion With Meg

She woke up in her soft sheets, and saw the window barely opened. She reached out to his side, to find the bed empty. She sighed. If not for his words, on the paper he'd left her, she might have believed she'd dreamt his presence the night before.

But she could still feel his arms around her, his breath on her skin.

She got up, and began preparing herself for the day. She had an open shift, and wouldn't have to wait too long to see him again.

She also had a text from Raoul, thanking her again for the nice evening they'd had. She answered swiftly, a smile on her face. Yes. It'd been interesting, and she wouldn't wait as long for the next one. But she had a more pressing issue.

Meg was waiting for her in front of her house, two cups of coffee in hand, near her car.

"Thought I'd come and pick you up. You won't be able to avoid me, this time," she smiled devilishly as she held out the cup.

"Thanks, Meg. I have all the ride to tell you."

"And the shift. I bribed Gina yesterday, and so she'll let us have a little time together. Far from eavesdropping."

"You didn't!" She laughed.

"Okay. Now spill it. How was it?"

"It was good. I mean, he was very gentle and considerate."

"So… He didn't try anything at all?"

"Of course not, Meg! He's not like that…"

"Good for you, and your mysterious boyfriend. Speaking of whom, you've been awfully quiet about him these days. What are you two up to? I still haven't met him, by the way. I know he's all shy, and all, but Chris, it's been what? Two months, now, right? Eight since you started lessons? It might be time to show him to your best friend huh?"

"Meg, I'm not sure this is the right idea."

"Nonsense," she claimed, as she parked in their reserved area behind the park. "If he's serious about this, we'll need to be able to see each other."

Christine sighed. She was _so _not ready for this conversation today, after what had happened the previous evening.

"Okay, listen. I'll make you a deal. I'll talk with him about this, and soon, we'll have dinner, together. Alright?"

"How soon is soon?"

"Next week. Promise."

"Deal."

They took the bus back to Ima, and the conversation went out to different matters. Yet in her mind Christine couldn't help but dread the conversation. She needed to prepare Erik, and also her friend. "Shy" didn't explain why he'd wear a mask, and why he wouldn't eat in front of them. But Meg was her best friend, and yes, she was right, she needed to be able to have it all. It would so much easier if she could speak freely about him, to have someone understand her.

They got changed and made their way to the base, happily talking in the light morning. It was warm as well, one of the last days of August. Soon, the summer people would leave, and the crowds thin again. And it'll be time for her to audition for the next season of the show ending at the end of September, and returning in January. But now wasn't the time to focus on that. She had her own job to consider, and the interview with her team leaders to become an XP soon enough. She hadn't mentioned it to Erik yet, not wanting him to have any sway in their decisions to accept it or not.

Gina had been true to her word: the two women had a shift full of moments together. And if they timed it right, they could have plenty of discussion while still being efficient and doing their job. But Meg had been satisfied this morning, by her promise, and didn't breach the subject again, except to talk about Raoul.

She'd have a word with her team leaders later this afternoon, to see if she could help the two have a shift together, especially one with plenty of work together. Who knew what could happen during the break between the two "Escort Elsa and Anna: A royal Welcome" thing they did in the evenings? There would be enough time to create something, if her team helped her.

(And so, the next week, Raoul and Meg were surprised to have a shift together, and the two processions on the same team. What a coincidence, wasn't it? And then, Gina's mistake, to have them opening the door for the procession, together, again. Twice, that was really not their lucky day.

But well. It was worth it, to see Meg swoon after her shift, and a long text that evening to tell her she'd asked him out, and he'd said yes.)

Now there was one little thing remaining.

How to tell Erik about her and their upcoming meeting?

She let the subject drop for the evening when she joined him. After their fight of the previous evening, she only wanted to sing with him, listen to his voice and hers together, and let it all behind.

And of course, he obliged her.

The next day, she promised herself she would tell him.

So it was with a heavy heart that she arrived to see him. And he noticed, astute as he was. He had her sitting down on the sofa, close to her.

"You seem unwell, my dear," he whispered as he re-arranged a stray curl behind her ear. "What is it?"

She took a deep breath, and quickly said:

"I'd like you to meet Meg."

He tensed and pulled back his hand. She grasped it before he could fully retreat.

"Please. She's an important part of my life, and she'd like to meet you."

His voice was cold, and yet pleading.

"Christine, my dear, I… I can't…"

"Not for long. You'll keep the mask, and all. Just to discuss a bit. Her mother's a cast member, too, she knows the park well. You'll have plenty to talk about."

He sighed.

"Very well. I shall try my best to be agreeable."

Relieved, she hugged him tight, and then kissed him.

"When?" he managed to ask, when she had finally stopped to breathe.

"Whenever you want. I want you to be comfortable, Erik."

He thought for a moment, distractedly drawing circles on her arm.

"Ask your friend, when she would like to come. I may have an idea for an outing that you might appreciate."

She smiled. Something that involved little talking, and showing her secrets of the park? That might be the quickest way to gain her approval.

"She may like to hear you sing," she added. "If she heard us, together, she'd understand how we are together."

He nodded slowly, the gears turning in his brain.

"Tell her next Monday. I'll be ready."

"Thank you."

That evening, when she went home, she called her friend to tell her the good news.

"Monday? We have a close shift, you know?"

"It's over at 9, Meg. We'll have plenty of time."

"Alright. Should I be well dressed? Or casual?"

"Casual is fine. We might get a private tour."

"Really? THAT'S AMAZING!"

She smiled. Despite being practically raised on the premises, her friend was an absolute fan and always fond of the secrets there were there. But now that she was excited, she had to tell him something else.

"Meg, you know he's very shy, right?"

"Yes, you've told me a thousand times. So what? Is he getting cold feet or something?"

"No. He'll be wearing a mask."

"What? Why? Is he that ugly?"

Her heart broke, but she needed to tell her.

"Worse than what you can imagine, Meg. I'm serious. He refused to show me his face for months."

"You're kidding. Right?"

"I'm serious. If you're not prepared, he's… Frightening."

"What?"

"Don't worry, he won't take it off while you're here. He's a dear, and kind man, and refined and his voice… There has never been a more beautiful, more emotional voice. You'll hear him, and you'll understand."

"Come on, girl. This is your boyfriend? I mean, I'm glad for you, but… You had Raoul! He was head over heels for you, and kind, and handsome!"

"Erik is more than that. He speaks to me, to my soul. I don't get it, but… It's like we're connected or something."

She heard her friend sigh on the other side of the line.

"Alright… I promise I'll make an effort not to pry. Is anything else off about him?"

"Try not to question his past, too much, if you can."

"Safe subjects, it is, then. Disney, music and you. Is that fine?"

"Perfect."

"Good." Meg yawned. "I'll leave you now, have a good night. See you tomorrow!"

"Bye Meg!"

She let out a relieved sigh, having made her friend promise to be nice to Erik. She was concerned, despite that. Would Erik be closed off and off-putting, as she knew he could be? Would Meg be frightened by the strange man she loved?

Only time would tell, and Monday seemed both far away and very, very close…

Erik had thought long and hard about that Monday night. He didn't care for the girl, but he wanted to show his good intentions to Christine. So far, he knew she was a good Cast Member, enthusiastic, and she'd been in the parade department for a while, before leaving and joining Christine as a Guest Flow. The shows or usual tricks wouldn't impress her. She knew much of it already.

But he had an idea. So he began planning.

By the time he was to join Christine and her friend, he was ready. They would meet by the castle, on the ground level, and then he would bring them to Space Mountain. Or rather, the inside of the coaster.

It was a huge dome, full of hidden doors and secret rooms, and once upon a time, he thought about making it his home. But it was difficult of access at the best of times, and didn't provide him with an easy underground tunnel. So he'd stayed near Phantom Manor. Which suited him best, as well.

But as a visit, it was always impressive. A tour of the ride with the lights on wouldn't disappoint them, either.

As the moment approached, Christine was less and less vocal, and her friend noticed it.

"Come on, Chris. It's going to be fine. I told you I wouldn't embarrass you!"

"I know."

It was all she could do to reassure herself.

They arrived at the castle, nobody still around, as it was still too early for the night crew to come, and he wasn't here.

"He's late?" she asked.

Christine shook her head.

"He's there, you'll see."

And sure enough, there he was, as always impeccably dressed, with the suit, and the mask letting his eyes, chin and lips show.

"Good evening, ladies," he greeted them softly.

Meg gasped and turned around, a hand over her heart.

"Goodness, are you always this quiet? I mean, hi! Pleasure to meet you! I'm Meg."

"I am delighted," he said, bowing.

Of course he would refuse to touch her and offer her his hand. Christine approached him and hugged him, feeling him tense and afraid under her touch.

"Good evening, Erik."

She held out her hand, and he took it after hesitating. It was a good sign.

"So. What have you got planned?"

"Follow me."

He strode down the bridge and headed to Discoveryland, cloak flapping around his ankles, moving in and out of the shadows. In the near darkness of the few lights, he was nearly invisible.

"How do you do that?" Meg asked, rather impressed. "It'd be sooo helpful to move like that when the crowds are too big… It's always hard to make our way across, but you make it seem so easy."

"Lots of habits," he simply said.

She didn't push the subject, and instead gasped as she saw where they were headed.

"Are we doing Space Mountain? Private opening? Cool!"

Christine smiled, and even Erik let out a small turn of his lips, half hidden by the mask.

"To begin with, yes."

And so they made their way down the queue line, as the girls had done together a thousand times before, but never quite in this darkness and silence. Alone, with just the music as a background, it felt even more special. Immersed in the story the ride told, as they'd never been before.

They climbed the stairs, to the stars room, and then down to the launching area.

"Please have a seat," he asked them.

"You're not coming with us?

"I would prefer not. Enjoy the ride."

They climbed aboard the first ship, and he checked their harnesses. Then he went to the console board, saw that everything was fine, and sent them out.

"I wasn't expecting this," Meg commented after they went down the first part, at the bottom of the cannon. "Is he always this shy?"

"He's gotten better, when you know him."

"Well, at least, this is great. I've never done it all alone like that."

And then they were off, no screaming from the others, just them, the thrill of the ride, and the music, deafening and pure adrenaline.

When they arrived in the station, again, he was waiting for them.

"I have another surprise for you. Would you like to do it with the lights on?"

"Yes! Meg squealed. "Thank you!"

And so he checked their harnesses again, and launched the next ride.

It was a completely different experience with the lights on. They could see each part of the ride, how impressive the whole machinery was inside.

"And you said he designed it?"

"The storyline, part of it, yes. And part of the machinery, he made it himself, as a prototype."

"He's a genius."

"That he is," Christine nodded.

They were back in the station, and out of the harnesses. Meg brushed her hair back.

"Now that was awesome. Anything else you'd like to show us?"

"Follow me."

He took them out on a tour of the building, of the inside, they went up the stairs of the cannon, and he softly spoke of the construction phases, the technical difficulties. Afterwards, he showed them the secret rooms still hidden under the magnificent dome. Despite the shyness, he was a good guide, and his love and passion shone through. Christine felt a deep pride for him. She knew how much effort it had cost him, and was thankful he'd done it.

Then he took them both to Videopolis, where a piano stood on the stage. He took his place by the keys, with Christine next to him.

"This is a new song he composed," Christine told her friend. "It is probably one of my favorites of his."

"I'm listening," she smiled, sitting down on the wooden benches in front of the stage.

Christine looked back at him, this man she so loved, and as he began playing, softly, she sang.

It was different still, singing in front of an audience, here where she'd never sung, where she had only ever worked as an usher for the shows. But she watched her friend, eyes sparkling, nearly holding her breath, and she let her voice soar in the notes that she loved, let the words out, one by one, linking her to him again. It was an exchange, between them, the piano and the voice, and to their raptured public of one.

She stopped singing, only to hear his voice behind, in one of her favorite duets, and there was no more Meg on her mind, just him, his voice, and the merging of their souls, with their music.

It was Meg's soft applause that brought them back to that evening and place on Earth.

"That… Was the most special thing I've ever heard," she sniffed, tears in her eyes and down her cheeks. "I've got goosebumps all around. Could you… Do another?"

And they obliged her, with another song, not meant to be a duet, but one where they could playfully respond to each other. In music, he was completely himself. There was no mask, no fears. Only him, the broken man, hoping and dreaming of beauty. Of love.

Meg didn't understand their language, didn't speak it, but she could feel what her brain didn't. See with her heart that they loved each other. It was as plain and meant to be as the great romances she was so fond of. When music connected them, she couldn't deny their chemistry, the passion and tenderness and rightness of their relationship. So she cried and smiled and let herself be happy for her friend, who had found another home, after so long drifting out in the dark.


	15. 15 - Audition

*-* Audition

Soon summer ended, and the time for new auditions came. Now she felt ready. With him, her voice was perfect now, and her acting had become superb. With Meg, she'd had help on her dancing, too, should that be necessary. When she walked into a room, there was a soft, beautiful glow about her, her presence both commanding love and respect. Her becoming an XP had nothing to do with it, naturally. It was just the icing on the cake, perhaps. A well-deserved bonus.

The auditions were held one cold and damp October morning in the building Simba, backstage, for intern auditioning. She'd been there a few times, namely with Meg to meet with her mother. Madame Giry was formidable and intimidating, but she was doting on her near-daughter.

She was one of the judges, the people who would decide if she was worthy of joining the troop. There had been no other incidents like those of that summer, as she'd refused to take over a role she hadn't applied for.

She'd chosen her clothes carefully, and came early to wait for her turn. She knew her _boyfriend_ would find a way to come and listen to her. He could never resist an opportunity to witness her talent.

As she waited on chairs disposed outside the rehearsal room Aladdin, a woman with Cindy on her nametag came to greet her and invited her in.

Madame Giry, Adelaide was there, smiling and yet severe looking. She would have to truly impress her. There would be no preferences, no buying her way in with a long nearly family relationship.

Another man was there, Emmanuel. He was in charge of some of the newer shows, and she knew he nearly worshipped the small pieces of advice Erik gave him weekly.

"Good morning Christine," he started, with a smile. "Thank you for coming to audition."

"Good morning," she saluted with one smile of her own. Smiling here was always very important.

"Now, do you know the role you're auditioning for?"

"I would like to sing for the part of Elsa."

A few centimeters too low, and there would have been no chances of auditioning.

"Very well. We shall have the piano to accompany you."

"I'll be singing Let It Go."

There had been no hesitation there, when she'd discussed it with Erik. It would show perfectly well how suited she was to the role.

A masked man, with the Darth Vader suit, entered then, to the piano. Nobody blinked. Gently, the first notes resonated in the room. And she sang Let It Go.

She'd already sung it a few times, was as perfect as one could be. But for this one time, in front of her judges, with him as her support, literally and musically, she glowed. The acoustics were good, and it felt right to be here, auditioning for the next season of the show.

By the time she finished, they applauded, on their feet, while her mysterious pianist had gone away.

Tears streamed down their faces.

She bowed, barely hiding her emotions as well.

"Waouh!" Cindy exclaimed, quickly drying her eyes. "I heard a recording of the time you helped Monsieur Reyer, this summer, but live… It was magical!"

"You were fantastic!"

That was Emmanuel, forgoing all manner of protocol to hug her.

"Yes. You did well," Madame Giry smiled.

"Oh Adelaide, darling, you could be more enthusiastic for your little protégée!"

"I don't think there'll be much debate over this audition." Cindy, back to business, as usual.

"You're absolutely right! I want her! We're going to have so much fun!" Emmanuel could scarcely hide his excitement. "It's a pity still you don't have a bigger part… But don't worry, we have another show coming for this summer, it's going to be perfect for you!"

"Come on, Emmanuel, the poor child is only just beginning…"

"Oh, but with such a talent, such a voice, we can't just hide her!"

"We won't, Madame Giry cut. Now go to the Cinderella studio, they'll be expecting you, for the papers and so on. We have a few more people to audition, if you please…"

"Thank you very much," Christine bowed again.

And she was off, a great fire of happiness inside her chest. Meg was there, a question in her eyes.

"So? Did you make it?"

Her beaming smile and huge hug answered what her voice could not. She squealed and kissed her cheek.

"I knew it! You're gonna be great, absolutely amazing!"

"Thanks, Meg! But I have to go and sign some papers…"

"Right! We have to celebrate! What about a drink tonight? You can't refuse!"

Christine smiled.

"I'll meet you at the DV tonight, 7 sharp."

"Great!"

She spotted the look on her friend's face, and Meg smirked.

"Now go and have fun with that teacher of yours… And don't be late tonight! You'll give us a round!"

Some months ago, she would have blushed. Today, there was only joy and impatience.

"I will!"

She kissed her cheek again, and Christine was off to the Cinderella room. As she knew it would be, it was empty and dark. Save for a masked man who drew her into his arms as soon as she closed the door.

"I heard congratulations were in order, my perfect Ice Queen…"

She shivered against him.

"It was wonderful."

She took off his mask, and kissed him, savoring the thirst and need she always had for him, that he always mirrored in her. He'd become more and more adept at this, and the change from the shy, hesitant man to this ardent, sensual lover was exciting, and now the very sound of his voice in her ears, rich and enticing, promising hidden treasures and endless pleasure, was enough to turn her panties very messy. When he touched her, it was always tender and sweet. A true gentleman he remained, despite the heat that consumed them, like today.

Her hand was tangled in his hair. He had abandoned her lips to her neck and nuzzled there as he adored.

She drew a quiet sigh, as the passion turned back into lovely, butterfly kisses. Sweet intoxication.

"It feels like a dream, all of it," she whispered, holding him tightly against her.

"Then do not wake me up…" he murmured deep against her skin.

She reached out to cup his cheek, caressing his damaged face in the darkness, feeling the soft skin that was still there, to the parts where it was almost missing, stretched so thin she always feared it would break.

"Thank you, Erik… For all of this… I'd never had succeeded, never thought I could do it without you."

"I did it for me as well, dearest. My greatest pleasure and pride will be to see you alone, shining on that stage."

His voice was full of pride and adoration, and it brought near tears to her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too, my dearest Christine."

She hugged him again, and stepped back.

"I have to go and sign the papers. I'll meet you home afterwards?"

"As you wish."

Home… That was what she'd said. It was becoming more and more difficult to go back to her flat in the evening, and her quiet one-bedroom apartment had begun to feel cold and empty.

"Meet you there, I'd like to sing some more."

"Then I shall warm up as well," he grinned.

She couldn't see it, but she heard it in his voice.

"Go, my love."

And she went away, knowing she probably looked a bit flushed, but this time she could put it on her success and nobody would blink an eye.

Once the papers and schedules and all the relevant details had been taken care of, she went back onstage, heading back to the castle and the secret door.

He was waiting for her, mask off, in the music room, sat at the piano, and his smile made all the scars and shattered skin irrelevant. How she loved him so…

"Shall we start, darling?"

Here it was again, his smooth tone, comforting and yet exciting.

"Bring it on, Maestro…"

* * *

When she left Erik, with sparks in her eyes and a comforting warmth inside her heart, she joined her friends in the DV, recognizing a lot more faces than she'd thought would be there. And yet nearly her whole team was there, congratulating her on her successful audition.

Meg squealed as she appeared, getting up to embrace her.

"You're finally here! I was beginning to worry you'd gotten abducted or something."

Her smile, knowing and wicked, made her giggle. She hadn't felt this excited in a long while.

"I'm fine, and I'm glad you're all here."

She smiled as she went on to kiss her friends, one by one, loving their words of pleasure and confidence.

Raoul was there too, lovely red on his young cheeks, and she hugged him too, enjoying his warm and joyful disposition. It was nice, to keep him as a friend despite his obvious wishes for more. But he'd been every bit as friendly and careful as before, and she had no worries he'd find someone better suited to his sunny smiles, like Meg, for example. Her own dark side and pain would have been difficult for him to deal with. Erik understood her on a level she'd never thought would happen. Ever.

Even her favorite team leader was here, and they drank together long into the evening, despite the fresh autumn air. Cheers after cheers, in the arms of her best friend, she had a small thought for Erik, home alone, but this afternoon session had been a delight, and he had said to enjoy herself afterwards. And she was. All taken in her lessons, she had barely taken time out to have a drink with them as she used to do. But now, she could have it all. Her friends, her love, her job and her passion, all at once.

It was a new challenge for her. Gone was the usual Halloween season excitement for the Guest Flow team: her time consisted in spending her days with her judges. She'd refused the vocal coach, knowing there was nothing someone could say about her voice. Erik could do it, if she ever needed to alter her performance.

There were blocking rehearsals, and the small acting part that was required of her. She met her fellow performers, the other Elsas, and all the characters and dancers. They looked at her with deference after she'd sung the first time. It wasn't every day they heard the most perfect rendition of the famous song. And yet it had become their norm. Some had been tempted to record her, but the managers had been careful and no phones or devices were accepted in the rehearsal room.

A full month went away, leading to mid-December. She watched Meg and her team face the busy Christmas season, and sometimes wished she was back with them.

And yet, she liked rehearsing, even if it didn't have the flavor of her own with Erik.

Finally, the tech week and dress rehearsal arrived, and she stepped on the stage, in full costume, again, to sing her part in a bigger theater.

It was always weird to realize this, to put this into words.

She was cast. She was her, Elsa, with her ringing song. She knew the show by heart, having also worked on it as the ushers, whenever the other Guest Flow Team at Prod 2 needed a hand. She knew the performers, the team. It wasn't the greatest, longest role, but it was one her heart had longed for. And she worked hard to be every bit as good as the whole of her team expected. But only one pair of eyes would matter on the D-day: his. As long as he felt she'd done her very best, the role would be a success. And she planned to enjoy the ride as much as she could.

* * *

_Sorry for the short chapter, but I promise I'll update soon! Thank you for reading, everyone, and especially for your lovely reviews. I had the biggest smile all afternoon! Thanks so much, I really appreciate it!_


	16. 16 - Christmas Together

_And here is a little Christmas moment, before her true Debut. Consider it a little gift for you, my dear readers, while you wait for the next chapter. I hope you will appreciate the gifts they'll have for each other, and the surprise character appearance :) Thanks for reading!_

* * *

*-* Christmas together

Christmas was fast approaching, now. And this year, she wanted to have something special. To celebrate it with him and her friends. After all, he had no friends that she knew of, had been alone forever, and he'd never mentioned even celebrating it once. And honestly, she hadn't felt that anxious to have a party either in the years that had followed her parents' death. But now, as she'd found another shot at happiness with him, nearly a full year to the date, she needed to make him something special.

And along the way, she'd been helped by a special someone she didn't think would happen. One evening, she came back from his house, and there was someone waiting for her. A rather middle-aged man, dark skinned and impeccably dressed. He looked distinguished and yet there was something dark about his eyes, how they noticed everything, swift and alert. In fact, he reminded her of Erik…

"Can I help you?" she asked.

He nodded, staring at her as if he was reading her soul.

"You must be Miss Christine Daaé."

His voice had a slight accent, too. As if English wasn't his first language, despite his apparent fluency.

"This is me. Are you looking for something? Or someone else?"

It was Guest Flow training, coming back to her as swiftly as if she'd never left the team, always the one to help. And her natural compassion, as well, but that wasn't the point.

He was very straight-forward, not dancing around.

"My name is Nadir Khan, and I'm an old friend of Erik's. I'm sure he never mentioned me before. There is something I need to tell you, and outside is no place for this conversation."

She'd never heard someone actually talk about him, and it was getting cold, so she opened her door and let him in. She directed him to the couch, and asked if he wanted a bit of tea. It would be nice for her as well, to soothe the cold she always felt when she left his warm home. And his arms, as well.

He sat straight and returned to the point when she sat down in the chair in front of him.

"We met each other when we were both in the darkest part of our lives, about twenty five years ago. We were both very young, and I was in charge of the police of a certain Mrs Nazeema. He was her… Favorite handyman, you could say. Anything she wanted done, he did, without questions. And I had a more public position, but very nearly under her orders, too. We… Never became friends, but… There was mutual respect, I believe, between us. When she ordered him killed, I… I couldn't do it. I helped him escape, forfeiting my own life in the process. And he helped me flee as well. I've lived in exile, these past 15 years, only recently returning to my country."

She listened intently to what he was saying, but was a bit surprised by the intensity of his tale.

"Mr Khan, this is all very interesting, but… May I ask why are you telling me this?"

"I returned to visit him, this past week, and… Hoping he'd be better than when I left him, a year and a half ago. He told me about you. Couldn't keep silent, actually. He loves you, very much."

She smiled.

"Yes, he does. And so do I, if that was your interest."

"I wanted to be sure where you're going with him. Erik isn't a man of changes of heart. Once he sets his mind and heart on something, there is nothing you can do to change his course. He loves you, and won't ever let you go. Are you ready to face what that entails?"

"Do you mean do I plan on leaving him? I know his truth, Mr Khan. I know his heart, and his past, and his face. I'm fully aware of who he is, and what sort of man he was in the past. I do not need to explain my reasons to you, even if you're his friend. I am 27, and fully able to deal with the consequences of my decisions. I love him, and I won't leave him."

He nodded gravely, and then smiled.

"Good. You're perfect for him, then. Strong-willed, and compassionate. I'm happy for him, to have found you. I… I must admit I was getting scared for him. Even here, in this park that he loves, he was beginning to waste away. And you… You changed him."

"I didn't." She was adamant about this, now. "He changed on his own. I was merely the catalyst, to have him be like this outside. But his heart hasn't changed. He's a good, tender man. Gentle and talented."

"Don't I know it," he grumbled. "I spent most of my youth trying to keep up with his mind."

She smiled again.

"Now if you're reassured of my intentions, would you tell me what brings you here, to France?"

"As I told you, I planned on spending a fortnight here with him. To celebrate that foolish thing you have in the west. He was the one to insist on my coming here, for the Christmas Season. Said I might begin to appreciate it if I saw the parks full of snow and decorations."

"You're spending Christmas together?"

And there her plans went out of the window.

"Actually, I'm just here to pester about how we are _not_ celebrating anything, but… I have a feeling you are going to insist on doing something."

"We met on Christmas day, actually. I mean, that's the day he heard me, and I saw his letter that day. The next day was our real meeting…" She was mumbling, and she knew it. "I mean, I actually wanted to have something special, for us, but I think he might like to have you around as well. He's been so lonely, friends will do him good."

"It'll be my pleasure to help, Miss Daaé."

"Please, call me Christine."

"Only if you call me Nadir, then."

"Agreed," she shook his hand. Warm and frail-looking, yet underneath was strength she wouldn't suspect at a first look.

"So. What are your plans?"

She settled more comfortably on her chair, and began to explain her options.

* * *

Erik was fuming. He had forgotten the Daroga would be coming for the season. He hadn't been there the year before, and with Christine around, as she'd swept him up completely, it'd been a shock to discover him in his home, as he was making his way to his bedroom.

"I see the tunnels are well maintained," he observed. "And you haven't changed the locks on the doors."

"Why would I do that? No one knows I'm here," he snapped.

"What a way to greet your old friend."

"If you're here to rest, you know my house. Help yourself. I have things to do."

Nadir went inside his music room, then the living room, and looked at his paintings.

"Who is she?"

Erik didn't bother answering.

"I'm serious, Erik. Who is this woman? Are you stalking her or something?"

"This is not any of your business!"

"It is if you're harassing her."

"I am not harassing anyone!" he hissed. "We're… Dating."

The word seemed strange to say. He'd never said out loud, after all. The Daroga didn't seem to understand.

"What?"

"We… Fell in love. I know it's strange, the gods know I don't understand why, but she loves me… She fell in love with me, Daroga." He looked at his old friend, more annoyance than true friend. "She saw my face… And she didn't scream. She didn't flee." His voice was reverent, as usual. Gentle, and soft.

"You showed it to her?"

"She insisted. And… I couldn't resist."

"How long?"

"It's been nearly a year. 351 days since I saw her for the first time. She sings, Daroga… The way she sings… Like an Angel. The most beautiful sound you've ever heard."

Now he'd started talking about her, there was no stopping him.

Nadir didn't understand it all, but he recognized the look of someone in love. He'd been that way himself, long ago, before fate had taken them both from him.

"So you say she loves you."

"She says she does. And I… I believe her."

It was a quiet admission, tender and warm. Nadir's mind was set. He would have to see her, and talk to her. The way Erik was gone, far too in love to give up, she had to be aware of what she was stepping into. Erik wasn't an easy man to live with.

* * *

Christine had come as usual, every day, to meet with him. She'd arranged her rehearsal schedules to keep a full day out for Christmas day, and had begun secretly planning with the Daroga. Despite his acceptance of Meg, she knew it wouldn't be fair for him to ask her to come for lunch. She hadn't seen his face, and would probably never see it. But that was fine. They had all the time in world for that, later. Now, she wanted a quiet affair, just him, and her, and the Daroga. It was one of their traditions, after all.

Planning their lunch, and what they would cook, and all, had been fairly simple. Keeping Erik out while they set it all up, now, that was a different affair. And what had been in her mind most of the time, was the gifts. What would she give him? It had to mean something, to be useful, to be beautiful, and she'd never been good for that. Meg used to be the one to help her, once, but… She wanted to do this alone.

The card had been the easy part. She'd written him something sweet and delightful, for what she hoped was the first Christmas of many.

But the actual present? Now that had been hard.

Still, on Christmas morning she'd got up early and went to the park as she used to do. Nadir had come up with an excuse to get Erik out, and she had the whole two hours until their lunch to prepare everything.

She started with the meal, getting the turkey ready, and the mashed potatoes, and the fine wine, and the bûche, too. Then the decorations, lights all around, and a nice table with nice silverware and a delicate tablecloth. She set up the music, softly in the background, and sang as she worked. The small Christmas tree had been the hardest part, a real one, gifted by a nice gardener Cast Member friend, no questions asked. She'd decorated with care, white and red and gold, with ornaments she'd bought from the castle shop, as they added a Disney feel he would like. And underneath, the gifts. Nadir had given her his, and they all awaited them for when the time came to open them.

She could barely contain her excitement as the smell diffused in the room, and the music brought her back to the year before. What a difference a single year could make, in their lives.

She dried her tears. Joy filled her heart as she read a message from her friends, with the photo attached. Raoul and Meg, and his parents, and her mother, all together, to celebrate Christmas together. Meg was blowing her a kiss, and Raoul smiling radiantly at the camera, a Stitch plush cradled in his hands.

"_Have a merry Stitchmas_" they had written.

That sounded good. She'd be sure to tell Erik, when he was here. That might make a fine title for the show, next year.

That's how they found her. Singing softly, her phone in hand, in the living room full of Christmas lights.

"Merry Christmas, Erik," she said as she embraced him, unmasking him softly to kiss him.

It was as if Nadir wasn't even here.

"Merry Christmas, my dear." He stepped back, and asked: "Why did you do that? We have a whole park full of decorations above…"

"This is different. This is your home. We couldn't just eat, you know."

"I wasn't planning on just eating," he purred.

What a tease, when he wanted to be.

"We have a guest," she reminded him.

"I can take care of him, and it wouldn't be a problem."

"Erik, you're insufferable," she laughed. "Now come and sit. I won't have my cooking go to waste."

They sat down, and began eating, and drinking. And talking. Erik was silent, most of the time, letting Christine and Nadir steer the conversation to subjects they both enjoyed. But he found he liked it, more than he would have guessed, to be here, not feeling too much, left out. Her hand reached out to his, often, and whenever she looked at him, she had the softest look in her eyes, genuinely happy to be there. And it was worth it. Her cooking was splendid, despite his usual poor appetite, and he'd loved the wine, as well.

The music in the background was pleasant too, for she knew his taste and had chosen pieces that they both enjoyed, and she hadn't forgotten a selection for the Daroga.

And finally, it was time for the gifts. Erik returned to his bedroom to retrieve what he had found and made for them both. From Nadir, Christine received a book for the piano, with Disney songs, the best arrangements, so she could learn to play it, as she'd wanted to. Erik had commented, of course.

"She can always ask me, if she needs better instructions."

But later, he admitted his choice was good, and it wasn't the worst book of them. He knew, he'd looked for one for her as well in the past.

She offered him a warm scarf and hat, as she'd noticed it always seemed to be too cold outside for him.

"Now you can roam the parks as you wish, you won't get cold!"

He smiled and thanked her, hugging her warmly.

She held her breath as she found her gift from Erik. Her hands were trembling when she opened the box.

It was a rose. Red and delicate, like in the movie Beauty and the Beast, its petals softly falling and then returning back to the flower, under their crystal dome.

"Life, rebirth and death, a curse broken," he whispered in her hair.

"Like our story."

It was perfect. Utterly perfect, and she was moved beyond words. She carefully set it on the table, and hugged him tightly. Her throat would make out no more words to express how it touched her. She couldn't make out the mechanism behind the petals falling and re-assembling, in a never-ending dance, but she knew he'd made it himself, like the magician he was.

He held her close to him, delighting in the way he'd managed to make her happy over this small gift.

She drew back and found her voice again.

"Your gift, now."

She kneeled next to the tree, and found another box.

"Merry Christmas, Erik."

He took it from her small hands. It was a long box, thin and delicate looking. His heart was beating fast, and he tried hard to suppress the tears he felt coming up the corners of his eyes.

He opened it, delicately shedding the papers around. He read the small card attached to the box:

_"__Merry Christmas to my most beloved friend and companion. May this gift be a reminder of the magic you weave every day, for me, from day one, and ever since. _

_I love you._

_Your Christine."_

He opened the box, completely unable to speak. It was a wand. A beautiful, exquisite crystal wand, filled with red, white and black pearls.

On the back, another line was written.

_Red, for love and beauty._

_White, for light and forgiveness._

_Black, for warmth and acceptance._

He broke down in her arms. Held her tightly to him, and cried on her shoulder. She embraced him, whispering words of love in his ears, cradling his head, kissing his forehead.

She let him deal with his emotions, long repressed and forgotten.

Nadir had walked away, leaving the couple alone to calm down in their own time.

Afterwards, none of them could tell how long it took for Erik to dry his tears and regain an emotional steadiness. But they knew they wouldn't ever forget that evening, and the bond between them even stronger than what it had been before.

They played late into the night, Nadir listening to this impromptu concerto, their voices combined, an exchange of music and lyrics, with the violin sometimes, or the piano. The organ he reserved for his most intimate pieces, ones they would be the only two to know.

He had few doubts by this point, having seen Erik so soft and pliant in her arms, and her so smitten with him, a tender look in her eyes.

But just like Meg, when the music embraced them, he felt nearly too much. As if disturbing a sacred event. A joining perhaps more intimate than lovemaking. Their love was obvious, natural and powerful, as deep and relentless as the sea.

They were one. And nothing would come between them, for she was just as protective of him as he was of her. And it would work, as strange as it may seem.


	17. 17 - The Role & Lovemaking

_Okay, dear readers, this is the one chapter I'm most anxious to post. This is the one that made me change the rating to M. So enjoy it, while I go hiding in a corner. We're approaching the end, too.  
_

* * *

*-* The Role & Lovemaking

Today was the day of the premiere. Her true Debut.

He'd sent her a text, when she woke up.

_"__You will be a sensation, dearest. Have faith in yourself, your talent and your work and everything will be perfect."_

It did little to appease her nerves, but still it warmed her heart. She expected nothing different, though, considering he'd been the one to give her her voice.

She was in a haze during the whole trip to her studio. Her stomach in a knot, she barely managed to eat anything. She breezed through the rehearsal, the vocal warm up, and there it was. Already, time to go!

She listened to the audience applause, welcoming her fellow performers, waiting for her cue.

The songs went by, and she kept quiet, not wanting to set her mic on by mistake, and then it was time. She entered the stage, trying not to watch the full space filled with guests cheering for her. She spoke first, introduced by Olaf, as she greeted Mickey.

And then the first notes of her song resonated in the auditorium.

She started to sing, her voice filling the theater, in the dark. The lights were dimmed, one bright spot on her, and she knew everyone there had only eyes for her, and one in particular, hidden away, not bothering to hide his tears as the melody soared.

She sang of her pain, of her loss, her voice deep with the emotions she had battled with for the longest time. Now she could finally let them go!

It was over too soon. She curtsied, finishing her role, taking one deep breath and a good look at the public.

Her heart felt full. Of hope, of joy, of the theater filled for her. Just like before.

And she went backstage, knowing he would be there, her colleagues mysteriously gone for a little while, until the next show started. A single rose tied with a black ribbon was waiting for her, with a small card. The paper smooth and heavy, high quality cream, and its writing, elegant and tender, as it had been the first time he'd written her, in red ink. How many things had changed since then… She held the rose to her heart as she read the message he'd left for her.

_You were amazing, dearest. Perfection has a new name: yours._

She took a deep breath, trying to repress the happy, grateful tears that threatened to fall down again. She set the message down on her vanity, covering it with the rose.

And there he was. In their dressing room, the others gone. All in black, as usual, cloaked and masked. She ran to his arms, letting him hold her close, her head still in its blonde braided wig.

"It was wonderful," she whispered. "Being back on stage, rightfully, it's… I can't even describe it…"

"Then don't, my dear. Enjoy it, as much as you can."

She closed her eyes, just feeling him next to her, smelling his sweet, intoxicating scent, the one that called to her so much, that she loved so much.

"I have a gift for you," he said.

He stepped back, reaching into the folds of his cloak to give her a jewelry box, black and shiny. And within, on red velvet, a beautiful necklace with diamonds and sapphires.

"Oh my god… she brought her hand to her neck. This is so beautiful, Erik, I… I can't accept this…"

"It pales against your radiance, I know," he whispered, "but… I thought it would go well against your skin, as Elsa, and as yourself. A present for your true Debut, darling. Allow me?"

She nodded, thrilled and humbled and in love all at once. She'd never seen such a beautiful thing, let alone imagined possessing one.

He slowly, gently fastened it around her neck.

"There… For the Queen of my heart…"

She looked back to the mirror, admiring its soft glow against her skin.

"You were right. It's perfect. Thank you so much, my love."

"Anything for you, darling."

They kissed again, and then with a soft brush of her hand, he fled back to his hiding place.

And very soon, she would have to go back on stage, for the new show was starting.

It was like a dream. She flew from performances to performances, barely noticing the times between. She loved it so much, giving her all completely to the music, to that role.

Meg had come as soon as her shift was over, to see her, applaud her best friend, and she'd brought Raoul along with others from her team who wanted to celebrate her success as well.

They had applauded, come backstage to congratulate her, and if Meg had noticed the priceless jewel around her neck, she said nothing.

They went away, to leave her to the ecstasy and exhilaration of performing.

She was gorged on the applause, the heat, the lights, and at the end of that beautiful first day, the stars in her eyes were brighter than all those in the night sky.

When it was over, applauded by her public and her fellow performers, she went back to her dressing room to wash her beautiful make up, take off her gorgeous dress, and the itchy wig. She let her necklace on, coming to adore the way it shone on her skin. She'd certainly deserved a little bit of pride for herself.

She glowed, literally, and as she made her way backstage to his home, she didn't notice the whispers and amazed looks around her.

_Did you hear? Yes, she's the one… The new Elsa… There have been queues for the whole of Toon Studio to hear her sing… They said Prod 2 have had to refuse people 5 minutes after it opened because it was too crowded…_

She hurried to the music room, saw him there, standing, waiting for her, his arms wide open, and she rushed to him, still feverish from her high.

"It was extraordinary," she spoke as she looked up, deeply into his eyes.

"_You_ were extraordinary," he corrected sweetly.

She was glad he wore no mask, would have been offended if he did now, at this point in their relationship.

"I can't believe I've done it… Did you see them? How wild was their applause? How they stood at the end?"

"I was there, too, dearest. I bore witness to your debut, and your triumph."

She smiled shyly.

"I was hoping… We could do something special to celebrate…"

He smiled, something both tender and wicked in his intense gaze.

"I've thought so, as well. And I've planned something that you would appreciate."

"Then surprise me, my Angel. I'm all yours…"

Her tone was seductive, and yet full of innocence. On this most sacred of nights for them both, he'd wanted to do something special, and to give her his all. No more looking backwards, and holding back. Tonight, for better or worse, she'll see him completely, bare to her gaze and judgement, and she'll decide what their future would be like.

But first, he had another gift. A much simpler gift.

"If you would follow me, my dear…"

He put back his Darth Vader mask, and held out his hand.

"Anywhere," she whispered, taking the fingers he offered.

And they went along the corridors, to go back onstage. For once, she had no idea where he would take her. There were so many wonderful places they could go to, it was hard to guess what he had on mind. But if the necklace was any indication, it would certainly be worth her while. Though she knew a simple picnic by the lake, watching the stars, or singing in their music room, would suffice.

What mattered was for them to be together.

He took her to the lobby of the Disneyland Hotel, at the feet of the park. His masked face offered at first a polite indifference, but also almost a curious interest most of all from the children who managed to remain unafraid of the dark figure.

But he went on, up the stairs, to go the first level, and then the second one. She held her breath. It surely couldn't be… What she was thinking?

He held out a key, golden and old, as he stopped them in front of the door she'd known for a very long time.

The door to the Sleeping Beauty Suite. The most famous and most prestigious suite of the whole resort. She held her breath, tears appearing at the corner of her eyes.

He opened the door, and let her step inside.

Then she couldn't hold back her sobs.

"I can't believe it," she said softly, her hand to her chest.

He closed the door on them both, to lead her to the main room. A beautiful piano was sitting there, as well as a long table of mahogany wood, with high backed chairs. But she almost didn't look at the beautiful room she stepped in, going straight to the balcony windows.

It was a cold January night, but the view of Main Street was amazing. All the lights were on, and the castle shone brightly down the street. On her right, was the dome of Space Mountain, his futuristic lights another beacon of light in the dark evening.

"Erik…"

She looked up at him, took of his mask, and kissed him, deeply, tenderly.

"I've always wanted to visit this suite... Thank you…"

He chuckled, his low laugh making her knees grow weak.

"This is not merely a visit, dearest. We're spending the night here."

She blinked.

"The whole night?"

He nodded, slowly, for her to take on his meaning.

She gasped, understanding what he meant. Her heart was set ablaze, as well as her body.

"Are you sure?" she whispered, bringing his hands to her chest.

"Yes… We've been waiting long enough."

She reached out again, to kiss him, but he held her back.

"First of all, dearest, we must eat."

"Right…"

Desiring other delicacies, she'd almost forgotten how hungry she was after performing all day, and barely eating in the morning. He put back his mask, as a _tap tap_ came from the door.

"Come in."

A young maid was holding a huge tray of hot food, and was followed by two others.

"Good evening, Sir, Miss. Shall we set the food you ordered in the dining room?"

"Yes, please."

They had not reacted to the mask, and went straight to the table where the table was set, and a chandelier was lit, as well as candles. There were also rose petals on the tablecloth, and an ice bucket of Champagne.

He held out her seat, and she sat down in front of him. The table was a bit too big, for them both, but they settled for the middle of the table.

They held out their dishes in front of them, poured them both a glass of champagne, wished them a "bon appétit" and were off.

Discreet and efficient, as was the case with all the palaces in the world. When the door had closed, he took off his mask again, and smiled.

"Here's to you, my love."

"And to my amazing, wonderful, talented, genius teacher and partner, without whom I wouldn't have accomplished one of my dreams."

"To many more dreams coming true, then."

His eyes were sparkling, full of a joy she'd never quite seen on him. Peaceful, elegant, tonight, there was a calm radiating from him. As if finally, all the insecurities he'd had had gone, vanished as a curse with true love's kiss. She wasn't far from believing magic truly existed in this realm removed from reality.

They ate in a pleasant way, making small talk of music, songs, and their beloved park. She had eyes for everything, took a bite of each plate. It was delicious, perfectly cooked and exquisite.

When they were finished, stomach full and body softly tingling with the wine, silence came back.

But it wouldn't last.

"Will you sing with me?"

"Dearest, you mustn't strain your voice after what you have done today."

"Come on, I barely sang thirty minutes combined. Please, Erik… Just one song, then?"

"Very well. Choose it wisely," he suggested, the same wicked delight and challenge in his eyes.

She took her sweet time finding the right one. This was the one night she would remember for the rest of her life.

"_A Whole New World._ It fits."

He nodded, took his place by the piano, and began. His voice heightened her shivering, the slow and warm tingling in her body, with his warm and loving tone, inviting her for a new, wonderful, exciting journey. Showing her the delicacies of his world.

Then she joined him, their voices united again.

She felt complete, lost in their music, singing the lyrics back to him. And he was drowning on love and the pleasure and disbelief of having his very own angel with him.

_"__A wondrous place for you and me…"_

They echoed softly, and he brought his fingers to a close.

This time he had tears in his eyes, of hope and joy.

"I love you, my dearest Christine," he whispered as he kissed her hands. "So very much."

"As I love you…"

They remained there for another moment, holding hands, until he was brought back to the present by a familiar announcement. There were 15 minutes left before the Disney Dreams show.

"Cover yourself, my darling," he asked, "it'll be cold on the balcony. I brought you some warm things in the bedroom."

"Fine, but I won't need it if I'm in your arms."

"Still, I won't risk your voice and your health."

She went to the bedroom, shivers down her spine as she saw the bed and what it would host later this evening. Taking her scarf and warm woolen cloak, she went back to the living room, where he was back in his half mask.

"Don't you think nobody is going to see you? You don't need it," she tried.

"I won't chance it."

She sighed, but stepped into his embrace, her back to his chest, as they settled to watch the show.

They had a wonderful view, if not a bit far from the castle and the images projected on it.

Slowly, though, they started to sing along, as they'd done nearly 6 months previously.

It was sweet and tender, full of their pleasure to be together, and playfully acted. It was cold, but in his arms, she felt nothing but cocooned and so very loved.

Watching the fireworks echo against the night sky, together, cherishing the feel of each other, the sweet scent of her hair and his perfume, his long elegant hands in her soft fingers, their hearts beating as one, and their voices gracing the evening air.

When it was over, they both had unshed tears tipping the corners of their eyes.

"Let's go back inside," he finally murmured.

He went to light a candle, and the soft pink glow of the room surrounded them once more.

"I have been dreaming of this night ever since I saw you," she whispered, going back to him.

He held her hands, letting her gently take his mask off. Slowly, he caressed her fingers.

"I've been reading," he confessed. "I should be sufficiently prepared."

"Don't worry, my love. There is nothing to be afraid of. I desire you. Your body. Everything."

"And so it shall be yours."

His voice was sharing the same huskiness as her own. She reached out slowly, to stroke his cheek, the thin and soft skin there was and the rest of it shallow and stretched.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the caress of her fingers, as she brought his head down to kiss him.

It was slow, and gentle at first, just as they had done a thousand times before. He put his hands around her waist, as she stroked his hair. And then his lips, so thin and yet thirsty for her, descended to her neck, nuzzling his favorite place where her scent was hypnotizing. She shivered, her legs weak, and held him tighter.

"Erik…"

"Tell me, my love. What do you want?"

"I want _you_…"

He hummed against her skin, and with a swift movement he had her in his arms and strode to the bedroom. He gently set her down on the bed, and she pulled him to her, spreading her legs to hold him there. His hand went to her hair, as they resumed kissing. She was the one to stop, and took off her pullover. Then her shirt.

He gasped, frozen, hands on her hips.

"Touch me, darling," she whispered.

Then she reached out to pull out his cloak, and unbuttoned his shirt.

He remained there, assisting her to reveal his pale torso to her eyes. He tried not to move, tried not to hide the way he was so painfully thin and skinny, his skin scarred and a reflection of his face.

She said nothing, brushing her fingers against the place where his heart beat.

"This is a part of you, same as your voice or your heart. You never have to hide from me."

And she kissed his skin, brushing her lips where her fingers had been. He shivered, nearly cried and she went to kiss his tears next.

"I love you, so dearly," he cried out. "Oh Christine…"

Her hands went to his pants next, unbuckled his belt as he kicked off his shoes. He was still trembling in her arms, and did not dare take off her own clothes. She did it herself, until they both stood in their underwear, facing each other.

"Come here," she whispered, as she brought him down on the bed with her.

She unclasped her bra, revealing her breasts to his gaze, and she swallowed. They were small and she had never been particularly comfortable with them, but he said nothing, gazing at her with the look of a man starving in front of a feast.

She lay there, unmoving, waiting for him to make his own move. Finally, after a nearly agonizing moment, he held out a tentative hand.

"May… May I touch you, dearest?"

"Please do."

Softly, with the barest touch, he touched her cheek first, and she leaned into his touch, kissed his fingertips as they traveled down to her chin, her neck, and then her shoulder. Slowly, he moved to her breasts, caressing them with the utmost care. She closed her eyes, and moaned softly. His hand stilled.

"Have… Have I hurt you?"

"Go on," she urged him gently.

So he did, down to her stomach, the skin supple and so very warm, her hip, and paused on her thigh. He was so very close, very close to her burning pit of desire.

She opened her eyes, found his looking back at her, seeming to ask for permission to go on. She held his gaze fiercely, daring him to take what he wanted from her.

He gasped at the unspoken challenge, and his hands pulled down what remained of her clothes. There she stood, finally, revealed to his eyes.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered reverently. "A real, perfect Angel."

And with his hands, he went to touch her there, his fingers lingering near her entrance, and she moaned again, grasping his shoulders for support. Emboldened by her reaction, he began to caress her, learning her moans and what she liked and what she wanted by the soft sounds she emitted, tuned to her every desire.

"I love when you sing like that for me, Christine," he purred, his fingers slick with the proof of how much she wanted him and loved what he was doing for her.

His voice had turned seductive and even sweeter to her ears, coaxing even more of the deep whimpers he'd come to love.

And so, the pleasure started to soar, slowly, at first, and then grew more unbearable as he intensified his caresses, deep within her folds, and out to the bundle of nerves aching for release.

It was hard, but she held him back.

"Stop it."

He stilled his moves, as she opened her eyes, nearly lost to the pleasure.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"You did beautifully," she said as she cupped his cheek. "But when I come, I want it to be with you. Us together."

"Together?"

"Yes, my love. Erik."

With a sigh of anticipation and happiness, he finally took off his boxer. To her delight, this part of him hadn't suffered much like the rest of his body. It wouldn't have mattered either way, but still. She was glad for him that he could have at least that.

And he was aching for her, too.

"Come here, my love," she said, holding out her arms as she lay back again.

"Wait. I… We need protection."

She had forgotten about it, all to her haze. But here he was, reminding her of that.

"I don't know if… I should be clean, but… I don't know if I am able to have children, but… We should not risk it."

"You're right. Thank you."

His thoughtfulness brought a flood of warmth to her heart. There shouldn't any risks, but… She wasn't a fool, and neither was he.

He turned back to his pants, where he pulled out a small box of condoms. Nearly awkwardly, he whispered:

"I have rehearsed so that I knew how to do it."

She watched him as he put it on, and it was weird but in an endearing way. She couldn't wait any longer.

Now that he was ready, she pulled him back to her. Slowly, he covered her with his body, shivering as their skins finally touched. She kissed him, savoring the feel of his skin against hers, the body of the man she loved more than anything, more than music, more than life.

He seemed content to remain there, in her arms, leisurely kissing, until he went down her neck again, and the aching returned.

"Now," she whispered. "I want you now, Erik, darling."

"Shall I make you mine? Shall I forever taint your lovely body with this horrible one?"

"I'm yours, now and forever. Just as you're mine."

"I belong to you, heart, body and soul," he pledged, as they held gaze.

And then, he entered her, slowly, inch by inch, and her fingers dug into his skin as she accepted him. It seemed an eternity before he was fully seated inside her, and she could finally feel her walls relaxing and pulsing around him at once.

She kissed him again, holding him tightly to her as he began to move. He didn't know how to at first, but he relaxed and seemed to find a rhythm they both enjoyed. It was more than a union of flesh. They were one, finally pieced back together, the lonely singer and the recluse genius. It seemed as though their very souls connected, first by music, then by their love, emotional and physical.

This rhythm was new to them, but they would learn it and perfect it as time went on.

And as with all music, they were experts, and it didn't take very long for the pleasure to grow again, reaching the very high they'd been racing towards, and as promised, they came together, in each other's arms.

They remained a moment deep within their embrace, but then he came out to pull out the condom, tied it and threw it in the bin, and returned to her outstretched arms.

"It was perfect," she murmured against his skin, as they settled under the covers.

Still naked, she savored the feeling of being in his arms, after experiencing the first physical embodiment of love.

"I am very glad you think so, darling," he purred against her ears. "It was heavenly to me too."

"Thank you for everything."

"No, my love, thank you, for being so accepting of an old hideous fool."

She squeezed him tighter against her, with all that was left of her strength. It would take time, but he would come to accept her love as natural and not as extraordinary.

"I love you, Angel."

"I love you too."

They fell asleep, Christine very easily, lulled by tiredness and the sweet sound of his heart beating against hers, and Erik a bit later, still marveling at the perfection he was holding in his arms.

He had never hoped it would happen to him, always dreamt it, of course, but still after a full year knowing each other, caring for each other, he was amazed at her loving him. Surely it could never be better than this. Loving his darling angel, being loved by her, and all the music he wished for.

At a night like this, a year ago, he would have spent the whole night awake, chasing the small imperfections in the buildings, correcting the crews and cast members as they worked, to ensure the most enjoyable and memorable experience for all. Some part of him wished to get up and return to that life, to keep his angel free from the pain of knowing him. His violent tendencies had lain dormant for years, but he knew himself and how easily he could return to them.

But the strongest part, his full heart, wanted to hold her forever and never let go, just as they'd promised the night before.

And he was too weak now, to resist her, and if she wanted him, he'd remain at her side for the rest of time. Not even death could separate him from her.

The next morning, he woke up surrounded by her, her curls in his face, her warmth and scent intoxicating him. She held him tight, as if afraid he would try to leave.

He was afraid, though. His mask lay further in the room, the scars of both his face and body shining in the soft morning light. He didn't have to frighten her, if he could just slip away to put everything back…

"Don't… "she murmured sleepily, her hand tightening on his. "Stay with me, please…"

Her eyes were still closed with sleep, but he dared not move. When she pleaded with him, he was powerless to resist.

She entwined their legs, trying to mold herself to him, and he felt the first stirring of desire wake again in his body. She was so lovely, her curls so soft, her eyes so tender, her skin a delight to kiss and taste and so sweet against his. She had been so responsive, pliant in his arms, and he wanted to bury himself in her once again.

But maybe now was too soon. She had to be sore and recovering from their lovemaking. But soon, they could lose themselves in each other and find them whole once more.

He kissed her forehead, whispered pleasant nonsense in her ears. She was smiling.

"Good morning my love," she greeted him when she opened her eyes.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

It was a new endearment term, and her heart swelled again. Every time she thought she could love him any more than she already did, he proved her wrong. And how much she loved him now, her heart fuller than it'd ever been.

"I love you," she whispered against his mouth.

"I love you too, darling angel."

It was as if all her thoughts were written on her face, and he was tuned to her every desire. It was nearly frightening how well he'd come to read her.

Deciphering her as if she was a sheet of music, sight reading her every note.

"I can't quite believe yesterday was real," she whispered.

"Me neither, my dear. But it was."

She kissed him again, savoring the feel of him in her arms, how pleasant it was to wake up like this, right by his side.

All the barriers gone, broken, disappeared as if they'd never been there in the first place. Two bodies bared to each other, as their souls had been.

Thankfully, this morning, she could spend nearly as long in bed as she wanted, as she had only one late show today. Of course, if she'd wanted, now she could have Erik tell them to have the day off, but it wouldn't do, so new to this job.

It had been every bit as wonderful as she'd pictured in those long months of teasing. And yet waiting had made it even better. He'd been ready to take this next step with her, finally at ease with his body and hers. His shyness had been expected, but she had hopes he would slowly grow more confident. And if he didn't, well. She wouldn't complain.

Would he want to go at it again this morning? She could feel her desire slowly coming again, with their lazy kissing.

Oh.

Sensing him hardening against her thighs, his breathing slowing a bit, she had hopes breakfast would wait a little more…

"Erik, darling…" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"I want you, again…"

She took his hand, slowly but gently nearing her clit.

He gasped, and chuckled at once, now fully awakened.

"Who can resist you, my dear? Your wish is my command…"

Gently he began teasing her, listening to her moans and soft breaths to see if it was pleasant. She closed her eyes, her hand grasping his shoulder to keep him close.

The pleasure built within, and finally she exploded in a million lights. Coming down from her high, she urged him away to go and take another condom from the box he'd left on the bedside table. He put it on with more ease than the previous night, and swiftly came back to her awaiting arms.

This time she teased him, with a dark and slow "_my turn_" to his ears, and he was almost painfully hard.

He had to stop her hand, to reach his own high inside her. He loved this feeling, to be completely united with her, despite everything, her not caring at the scars and the paleness and the utter thinness he had. She had accepted him, fully, and when he entered her again, both of them moaning in the soft morning light, their arms clamped on each other, eyes meeting again, he thought he would die there. His poor heart could never bear so much happiness and love.

Again, the pleasure was deafening. As if somehow, it could get even better. Practice made everything perfect, he supposed. And apparently, they would spend a long, long time practicing together…

Beaming with love, he showered her with kisses and sweet words. He'd never felt quite so free. It was a different ecstasy than when they sang, but no less satisfying. Humans, despite what he'd tried to think all these long years, were creatures of flesh and bones, and this skin connection had been missing from his life. He could have lived without it, he knew, drunk on their songs and music, but to have touch and contact was adding another dimension to their love. And now, only one aspect was missing to have her bound to him, for the rest of time, but he wasn't anxious for this. He was secure in the knowledge she loved him, and wouldn't leave, and it was more than enough for him. What was a piece of paper in the great scheme of things? She wouldn't care, anyway, either. But if she did, he'd make sure, one day, that they were truly united, in their eyes, but also the world's.

But that could wait. As he lay in her arms, after taking off the used condom and throwing it away, he savored the aftermath of another very satisfying round, for the both of them. He would spend days and weeks and months and years learning to squeeze every bit of song and pleasure from her lips.

To recognize her wishes and make them come true, one by one, as had been his intent when he'd begun working here behind the scenes. Bringing his art and knowledge out in the world, in ways they would accept.

Now, with her, he might feel confident enough that his art was truly deserving of the spotlight, and his face not a damning cause for failure.

With her, he'd found hope again.

_No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true._

Perhaps, despite what he thought, he hadn't been completely hopeless. Despite it all, he'd gone on creating, making art not for himself, but simply because he had to. Because he couldn't do anything else. To go on, to bring beauty after he'd brought so much death and destruction, had seemed, perhaps, a way to atone for his past.

New ideas of shows and music and designs sprung from his thoughts, as he lay beside her, not quite asleep, and he had to get up to put them down on paper, lest he forgot them later.

The twenty-fifth anniversary of the park was approaching, and he'd had ideas, but this one… He would make them all change, to bring this one to life. He couldn't resist: it was perfect, for the hope she'd lit up inside his heart, not created, because it had always been there, hiding, waiting to be awakened again.

A dreamer, that was who he had been all along. And now, with her, he could be that again. Freely.

She'd been his _invitation to dream_.

She'd barely been aware of his getting up, but it wasn't from the shyness of earlier, when she had to bring him back to her and force him not to put his mask and wig again. This time he had an urgency in his movements that suggested the throes of inspiration. It was a look she knew well. And she wouldn't dream of disrupting or interrupting the flow of ideas. Just like the dreams when waking up, ideas could be lost in a matter of minutes, and it was imperative to commit them to paper. The gods knew how many dreams she'd forgotten because she had had to get up quickly and couldn't find time to write them down.

She watched him walk away to find a notebook perched on the piano, and begin to write frantically, utterly lost to her. She didn't know how long it lasted, but it was fascinating to watch him like this, all his emotions and thoughts plain on his bare face, for once not hiding anything. And it was a delight, to see him that way. No fears, just the muse taking over him.

She couldn't wait to ask him about it.

When at last the flow of ideas was quenched, at least for a little while, he returned to her. Sat on the bed, kissed her, thanked her for the inspiration she'd given him. And he couldn't wait to be home to compose what he had in mind, and paint her like this, sleep and pleasure in her eyes, the soft posture she had, relaxed and pliant, her skin radiant with love in the soft morning light, hair tousled with their moves. And her necklace, still shining of the bedside table, where she had carefully put it after their lovemaking and before sleep.

"Shower? Together?" She asked.

"Mmm," he hesitated, his hands in her curls, mouth against her neck. "Are you going to keep your hands off me?"

"I may not succeed, I fear," she moaned.

"My, my… What are we going to make of you, my dear?"

His tone was low and seductive, again making her shiver violently.

"Don't leave me hanging like this… Come with me…"

"As my lady commands," he whispered as he stood and took her hand.

It was a new experience for both of them, again, but in the glow of the room, and the big tub, they shared this new first together, and it was amazing again. Another form of vulnerability, tracing his wounds with her hands, washing them away with the soap and the water, and he was shivering, as well.

A rebirth, it seemed, as he stepped out and looked at his face, the way he hadn't done in a long, long time. Maybe in time, he'll learn to accept it, too, as she had done.

She put her head on his shoulder as she looked at their two faces in the mirror, their hands entwined. She sighed of contentment.

Now she wanted him to paint that. There was a contrast she couldn't deny, between their faces, the way his still looked like a corpse's and hers was, well, a bit livelier, but… There were similarities too. Eyes shining. The glow of being in love, as well, highlighting their skin. Their smiles, his a bit crooked but every bit as honest and sincere as her wide one.

Two people in love. _That was_ what they were.

They had breakfast on the big table, talking softly. There was a different kind of atmosphere, now. Most of the passion of the night before had gone, replaced by a comfortable easiness. No more fears.

She tried to get him to talk about what he'd dreamt up with her there, but he wouldn't say a word.

"It'll be better if you don't know yet, my dear. It'll be a surprise when it happens."

"What? When? Are you going to use it for the 25th?"

"I might…"

"But… I thought you said you were glad the preparations were nearly over?"

"I'll make them change it."

She gasped, both laughing at his nerve and afraid that they were going to have to pull it off. And while she had faith in their teams, she knew Erik would only accept the best.

Hopefully they'll manage in time not to bring out his wrath…

"If you say so, Erik."

He looked in her eyes, loving the light inside them, the sparkle of joy, admiration and the bit of challenge there always was.

He bent to kiss her hand, her long soft fingers so warm against his skin.

"Do not fear for them. In two months, it will be revealed to you as well. We shall all do our best to please you."

"And the rest of the guests."

"Naturally."

He was smiling, and she was shaken, again, by how much more alive he seemed then. His face lit up, and the beauty she had tried so hard to find a few months ago was now so evident, so apparent in the loving curve of his too-thin mouth, the sparkle in his deep blue eyes, the new glow of his parchment skin. He was still horrible, of course, but he was hers, and he loved her, and every time she thought her heart was full, she was hit by another surge of love. It was nearly painful at times, how strong her emotions were.

But she was used to strong emotions, and if love was it, she would never complain.


	18. 18 - A Home Together

*-* A Home together

They had to leave, for her to get back to her stage singing and show rehearsing, heart beating with anticipation, and him to his composing and painting and general monitoring.

He accompanied her to the back of the theater, where he left her to get ready, and went down his secret tunnels to his home. He felt elated to compose, a state he was becoming very, very familiar with. She filled him with sweet music and powerful melodies, and the ringing of words to accompany them.

As she got ready for her next day on stage, there was still a question on her mind. Her body seemed unable to forget his caresses, the way he'd felt so right against her, inside her, the way they'd fit, and his cries in her ears. She could still feel the ghost of his lips on her neck, her breast. But now that they had done that, finally crossed that threshold, what would happen? Going home to her empty flat would be getting harder and harder. And yet, living together was a big step. Would she accept living in his subterranean home? Even if it was inside the parks? She would have to discuss this with him, when she saw him again. Now was the right time.

The whole day felt like the first. Her nerves had been hard to manage, but when she stepped on stage, ready to give everything she had in her role, her voice shone as bright as the lights, her body tingling with the magic she herself was producing. Only excitement and pleasure remained.

Every cheek was damp when she finished.

She went back to his home as usual, texting Meg about their next outing together, including Raoul, all three of them, to find him sat down at the piano. Ready to sing.

"Good evening, Erik. There's something we need to talk about, first."

He stood, and embraced her.

"Good evening, my love. What is it?"

"Come and sit with me."

She brought him to the next room, and sat down in the sofa, the scene strangely reminding her of the time she'd done that to talk about Raoul, or Meg. This time, though, it was about them both.

"Last night was incredible," she began. "And… I can't help but… Well… I…"

How was it so hard to tell him what was in her heart, about these subjects? It'd been so easy to ask him, in her mind. And yet… Suddenly, it felt impossible.

He was looking at her intensely, not knowing what exactly it was she was wondering. Her tone and the beginning of her sentence felt promising, but her hesitation made him afraid.

"You know you can tell your Angel anything, darling. What is on your mind?"

She breathed deeply.

"I'd like to do it again. And not… Not in a hotel room. It was amazing, of course, but… I want it to be in _our_ room."

_Their_ room?

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I want us to live together. I'm asking you if you'd like me to move in. Or, we can find somewhere else, where we could, you know. Share the same space."

He felt awestruck. This was a big step. Their relationship wasn't that old, and… Would she like to share the same space as him for her whole days and nights? And where? She'd said here was fine, but… She wouldn't want to live underground, as long as they were together, surely? But then… Where? Her flat was too small to accommodate them both the way he wanted her to live, comfortably and privately.

"We can't live here," he finally said. "I… I shall think about this."

"Does that mean… Yes?"

"Yes… Yes of course, if that is what your heart truly wants… Or should I say… _Your body needs_…"

She smiled wickedly, excited by the seductive purr his voice had had.

"We can begin here," she whispered back, all thoughts of music forgotten, as she led him to his room. He wouldn't complain. Naturally, his whole home was soundproof, and he intended to see just how beautifully she could sing under his hands and lips…

The next day, she woke up to find him next to her still. But he was clothed in an old pajama.

"Were you cold?" she asked sleepily, glancing at the time on her phone. She still had a long moment before she had to leave and get ready.

"I… Forgive me, my dear, but… I went to your house, and took a change of clothes. For you, to keep here. While I'm thinking about relocating us."

Relocating. Moving in, together. With a real, lovely _girlfriend_. He felt dizzy just thinking about it. Would he ever get used to this idea? Of deserving so much love and care and tenderness? He believed he wouldn't.

"Would you… Leave here? For me? I mean, for us?"

He'd spent the last 25 years here, alone, and he'd forego it all, just because she'd asked?

"Of course. Living here would be unhealthy for you."

She hugged him, and kissed him, and… Well. Things went out of control. Again.

When she finally left his bed, she wasn't late, but thank goodness she had only 5 minutes to go to work, because otherwise, it wouldn't have been professional to be late, only two days in.

While she was gone, forgetting all plans about his day monitoring the parks, he set out to look for the most convenient place for them both. It needed to be close, so that he could make the needed arrangements to tunnel into his old home, but still above the ground, and pretty and remote. They would both need their privacy. She might like a garden, and a balcony, to look at the stars. And on the other side of the park, so she could watch it from afar, if she'd like. They would need enough room for them both, plus a music room, and a library, as they were both avid readers. Soundproof it all, of course, was a given.

It wasn't easy, but he found the perfect place, that very afternoon. It would necessitate a little while to make it suited to their needs, and he would show it to her, to make it theirs, completely. She would help for the decoration parts; her taste was sure and would suit them both.

So when she came back, still glowing from her high on the stage, he showed her the plans and the photos he'd got from the agent he'd hired to look for a house for them both.

"Is that? For us?"

"Yes. What do you think? It's very near, at the back of the park. You could come here walking. There's enough room for us both, and it's very private. There's a rooftop, too. We could watch the park from there. And the fireworks."

"Hear the music," she sighed dreamily. She'd always wanted to live over there, but it was more expensive than she could have afforded on her own. "It's perfect, Erik… I… I have no words."

He smiled, his big crooked smile she loved so much, and she hugged him tight.

"When will it be ready?"

"It needs a few more arrangements, but by the end of February, it'll be ours."

A month away.

"I can't wait," she whispered against his chest.

And then the eagerly awaited day finally came. Of course, there was a nice little tunnel from his home to their new little house, but he would show her that later. Instead, he'd come to pick her up after her shift ended, in his Darth Vader suit and mask. Nobody ever blinked an eye with it. Hand in hand, they left the backstage without anyone commenting, and into the small deserted road behind the park.

There, hidden by thick hedges, was a cozy house. There was already her name on the letter box and next to the doorbell. She didn't comment on the absence of his. There was a time for everything.

He gave her one of the two sets of keys, and she opened the door. A nice, open corridor led to a light, wide living room, with large windows. Bookcases were already set, filled with a selection of the books they adored. Later, she'd bring the last of her possessions here, and his, as well.

Connected, was the dining room, and the kitchen, well-furnished and functional.

A big and elegant staircase led to the first floor. There was their bedroom, a large room in pastel tones, warm and inviting. Attached was a bathroom, with a beautiful tub, very close to what he'd had in his home. An office completed that level.

And another flight of stairs led to the rooftop, protected from the elements and with a beautiful view of the sky.

"Tonight, you shall watch the fireworks from here, if you'd like," he murmured against her ear, lips pressed to her lobe.

She nearly couldn't answer due to all his distracting.

"Yes," she breathed. "Of course, if I'm with you."

They went down, to their last room. It was a basement, but warm and dry and light and where he'd already moved his instruments.

"Shall we try it?" he asked, preparing to sit down at the piano.

"First this, yes. And then there is something else we must try…"

Her tone and the fiery look in her eyes told the rest. He was already burning, but threw these emotions into a beautiful, delightfully sexy melody. Her voice was perhaps a bit too breathy, but so emotional he didn't mind. Not when she was singing these words to him, and only him…

And yet he drew it out, intoning the chorus again and again, until she had enough, and threw herself at him, lips colliding, bodies caressing.

They found the bed was perfectly suited to their needs.

When they finally had enough, at least for a little while, they went to take the rest of her things, in a small truck he'd lent, and spent the rest of the day arranging it in their new home.

Then he went to bring back his own belongings, and they spent their first night together there.

She woke up in the middle of the night, to find him gone from her side. She got up, hearing muffled cries down, and followed them to the basement.

He was huddled on the ground, against the wall, his frail body curled on himself, and he was quietly sobbing in his hands, hiding his face.

She held her sigh and own despair. She should have known something like this would happen. But he'd been so joyful earlier, settling between her arms.

"Eric, Angel," she softly called. Hearing her voice, he hid a bit more still.

"Leave me alone," he cried.

"I'm here," she insisted, kneeling next to him.

Slowly, she reached out to cover his hand with hers, gently caressing his cold skin. She knew better than to force him to show himself, in this condition.

"I'm here. I'm not leaving," she repeated.

And she started to sing a lullaby, an old tune her father used to play when she was young and unable to sleep, or sad. Her mother had given it words, and they rang again in the dark room.

At first, he didn't react, but slowly, he stopped crying, and his breathing calmed. His pulse, under her hand, returned to a normal level.

"I'm here, Erik. I love you."

And then finally, he dropped his hands into his lap, and she kissed his tears away, gently caressing the soft skin of his pale cheeks.

She held him against her, rising on her knees to embrace him fully, his head against her chest. She caressed the stray, grey hairs on his head.

"Let go of the past and your fears, my love. I'm here. I want you, and I won't leave. It'll be alright."

She could slowly feel her limbs grow numb, but she wouldn't have moved for the world. He needed her, in this time of changes. And she held true to her words, her heart full of love and pain for this sweet soul, wishing she could make the past disappear. But just like her own despair, it would never fully leave, and they'll have to accept it. And learn to live even more, because of it.

He got up, still tangled in her arms, his frail body against hers, and they went up the stairs to their bed. Dawn was approaching, she could feel it, but she didn't care. What mattered was that he'd returned to their bed, and as she held him again, it felt as if he wanted to mold himself to her, disappearing into her and never leave. She hugged him tighter, and they both fell asleep wrapped in each other, his tears still damp on her nightgown.

He didn't mention it, the following morning, nor any day that followed. She trusted him to tell her if something else came up, if he wanted to talk about it. But the nights afterwards were less painful. Of course, some nights she felt him leave, but it was to find him asleep at his piano, or his writing desk, music sheets or drawings or ideas everywhere. That brought hope to her heart. Composing might help him soothe his heart and his fears, if her presence alone couldn't.

They still had music "lessons" when she came home, and most days she took his tunnels to return from her performances. It was just much more convenient that way.

Meg commented, when she told her so, that she would have to be cautious, else she'd turned into a DLP Ghost as well. That sent her laughing. It wouldn't be such a bad thing, after all.

Then a day came, one she'd hoped would never come, but it did. Her parents' death anniversary. Ten years since they'd been gone.

She'd planned to have the day off. When she woke up, it was as if the pain had never left her, and she started to cry in her pillow.

Usually, she would get up and find him downstairs, cooking their breakfast. When she failed to come down, or even answer to his voice, he went to find her. And then, seeing her broken and curled in their bed, eyes closed and trying not to make a sound, he understood, and cursed himself for not remembering. Not paying special care to be there, in that day. For once, _she_ was the one who needed him. Who had needed him to be there for her, just as much as he'd needed her.

He got into bed, drawing her to his chest, and started singing. The melody had been sneaking into his mind for weeks now, but until then, he hadn't been sure of how exactly it should be played. But this, this felt right. He hummed at first, not knowing the words to accompany the notes.

She didn't move, didn't stir, just let herself be held and loved and comforted. He was her anchor, her safe harbor in the storm of her despair. She felt she could drown in it, the sorrow and the tears and the ache, the void deep inside her. Her chest ached from how tightly she felt bound to her grief, hands trembling as she clasped the sheets, trying to exchange one pain for another.

He found the words. Let them grow and change and echo in their bedroom, soft and lovely and loving. His voice was urging her out of the sea, into the warm open air.

She wasn't so alone anymore. Here was someone who cared for her, and wouldn't let her fade away.

_You are loved. You are not alone_, he seemed to be telling her, repeating it over and over again, until the words and melody washed away some of the weight crushing her and the cage holding her.

It wasn't a nice day, by all accounts, but perhaps she felt a bit better that evening, her sadness calmed, until the next time.


	19. 19 - The Change

_Hello everyone! Glad to see you still here! =) I have finished writing this story, and we're nearing the end, there are three chapters remaining. Enjoy reading!_

* * *

*-* The Change

One night, as she joined him, she found him bent on the piano, his sheets music all around, his red pen in hand, and another hand on the keys. It wasn't usual for him not to greet her, and she was both glad that he was so comfortable now he wouldn't change his habits, and disappointed that he may not care enough now to get up and salute her.

He turned around, madly, not having heard her until the moment she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Good evening, Erik," she greeted him with a kiss.

"Good evening, my dear."

She gestured to the sheets.

"Do you mind? Is this not top secret?"

He hesitated, and then relented.

"Go on. I'd like to see what you think about this. I… I am struggling with lyrics."

She took the sheets in hand, began to sight read them softly. And as she read, as the music took shape in her mind, resonated in her ears as he softly accompanied her, the words came out, as if forced out by a muse.

He froze on the keys, grasping a pen and putting them down on paper, asking her to repeat.

She went on, uncaring, lost in the music, the melody taking a hold on her, not leaving until the last of the words had come out, and she took a deep breath.

She felt as though she had walked out from a dream.

He was looking at her with a new look. He had always loved and admired her voice, but this was new, her skill with words. She'd never talked about this. Never mentioned she liked it.

"How did you do that, my dear?"

He seemed awestruck.

"I don't know. It… It just felt right."

"You should write more. This… This is perfect."

He put the papers down, and began to sing her words, and in his voice, with the piano as companion, she saw it. Her words fit. There was no other way of putting it.

But now, he had other ideas for them.

She had another gift, he was sure of it, and with work, and if she wanted to, they could work together. Perhaps put together something of their own. Their music, composed by them, and sung with the power of their voices. Something that suited them.

Who knew? They might even get something ready to perform and record, one day.

"Maybe you should come out, you know. Appear as you are, and make them see what they all owe you. All your ideas, your music, this is yours! You should let the world appreciate that."

He was silent, unable to answer her. Part of him wanted that, to be recognized and not ignored again, not having to work in detours and with threats to have them see his talent, but the biggest part was still afraid. He had spent so long hiding, he wasn't sure if he knew how to work in a human society anymore. Even with her help, it might be too much to bear.

"I'll think on it," he promised.

She nodded. It might be the best she could hope for at that point. And she wasn't in a rush to have him confront his fears. It had taken her a little while to adjust to the spotlight, and his trauma went much deeper than her own.

But eventually, she might succeed in convincing him.

* * *

He was breathing hard. It might be the most difficult thing he'd done, but he had to do it. It was morning, and he stood outside the building where he'd given his EPC manager advice for years. He'd seen them come and go, but this one had stayed here, began a young dancer, full of enthusiasm, and always acknowledged his presence as a benevolent ghost. Now he would give him another opportunity. To meet him and begin working together, with an ally.

But he owed it to her, and most of all, to himself. To be able to live in the light, to share her spotlight. He'd done it all, made the park thrive and soar. He'd learnt from his mistakes, as they were, and now, it was doing better than ever.

And trembling, he went inside his office. To wait for him, when he arrived at 9 sharp. The discipline of a dancer wasn't so easily disturbed, even years later.

He calmed down. After all, he was still hidden behind his mask. He would only reveal his body presence. And in the park, perhaps his young protégé wouldn't mind so much, used to all the drama and theatrics around these parts.

He sat down at the desk, and waited.

Heard the soft, light steps of Manu echoing on the floor, and then the key turned in the lock. The room lit up, and he heard him gasp.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Close the door. And sit down," the Phantom said quietly. "There are things we need to discuss."

He willed his voice to appear as non-threatening as possible, while being commanding and firm.

The manager obeyed, curiosity winning over the fear of having a masked man in his private space.

"I am the one who helped you rise to your position," he began. "The one who has been giving you all the advice you were craving for. You did well, and obeyed my instructions. For that, I am grateful."

"It was you!"

But Manu didn't say anything else, filled with respect and curiosity for the person who'd been such a good help these past years. And yet, the mystery made him nervous.

"Why the secrecy?"

"Would you have believed me had I come to you thus? Would you have enacted my commands had I not been The Phantom?"

"Probably not," Manu honestly answered. "What do you want from me, now? Why reveal yourself?"

"I would like to make a deal. To be officially established as a consultant. To work in an office, much like yours, and be consulted on all the matters around here. In exchange, there will be no more notes, no more mischief, no more fears."

"I don't have the power to make that decision. I'm sorry."

"I'm not asking you, per se. I would like to consider you an ally, in convincing others."

"This… This is a lot of responsibility. The others… May not understand you as I did. May not see what I've seen you do."

"Explain it to them. Show them how pertinent my advice has been and the results I've given the park. Are we not better off now thanks to my advice?"

"We are, but…" He went still, breathed deeply. "I shall do my best to help you, just as you helped me. This world can be ruthless, but we can try to make it better."

"Thank you. From now on, you shall not have to worry about me. When you succeed, leave me a note. I shall see you then."

"Wait!"

But in a flash of light, the Phantom was gone, leaving behind a single note, to remind him of the work. To bear witness that he had not dreamt it.

**_I'm relying on you. Do not disappoint me._**

It had gone rather well. And not, he had only to wait. He still strode in the shadows, still left advice on the coming 25th anniversary productions, and left gifts to the hard-working crews and cast members.

He wasn't hoping on Manu to succeed before the 24th of March, the day where the season would begin, with the press event covering the opening of the festivities.

But he was wrong, for a note was left for him, in Manu's office, one evening of March.

_"__Dear Phantom,_

_I have arranged a meeting with our managers on the high level. They're prepared to meet you and offer you a post as consultant, as you wished. To supervise the details, please join us in two days' time, in my office. They shall be there at 9, and anxious to meet you._

_Please tell me if the time is inconvenient to you._

_Best regards,_

_Manu"_

And he wrote back.

_**"I shall be there. Thank you for you diligence, it shall not be forgotten."**_

He hid this from Christine. Just as she hadn't told him of her becoming an XP until it was done, so had he refrained from telling her about his endeavor to become a consultant. Working by emails, from the safety of his home, and yet coming and going to see what was going on, with the safety of knowing he would be obeyed… If it worked, he could envision a very, very different future, for them both.

And that frightened him as much as it thrilled him.

The day of the meeting had finally come. As before, he'd gone into Manu's office to wait for the managers to arrive. Several footsteps echoed outside the room. He was sitting down in his chair, master of the situation.

The door opened, revealing Manu and two other people: the director of the operations, he called Dani, who'd gone up the ladder to the very top, and the CEO of the Park, a Mrs Cate. She had been a recent addition to the park, and he'd welcomed her input on things. She wasn't bad at her job, and a fan-favorite, very good communicator.

"Good morning, my Lady, Gentlemen," he began, his voice powerful and yet enticing. He wanted to convince them.

"Good morning," they replied.

"So this is the infamous Phantom," Cate said. "I have heard of your deeds, sir, and it seems we have much to be thankful for."

"I've been in the company for 25 years myself," said Dani. "I've always heard of you, and received a few of your gifts. I must say I'm glad to finally meet you. Is there a name to go with your persona?"

The Phantom was humbled. He hadn't expected this. For years, and years, he'd been reluctant to appear to them in person, leaving notes to escape their notice, but… Perhaps he could have done things differently? Perhaps there were people who were actually, really noticing his efforts and good intentions? He did not know what to think.

"You may call me Erik," he admitted.

"Thank you, Erik," Cate said, her voice warm. "Shall we get to the point? We are rather busy, and I will assume you are as well."

"Certainly," he nodded.

They sat down around the desk, and Dani took various papers from his bag.

"So… Here's a contract. Indefinite, of course, as a Consultant. Your decisions are to be taken into consideration at all times, with a right of final word. That was hard to do, but we managed, considering you haven't led us astray, until today. The salary is really good."

"I've requested it specifically for you. Wouldn't want you to stop your gifts on the cast members," Manu added.

"All usual benefits, of course, according to the French Law. As well as an office, on the premises, and a name tag, if you'd like. You are a private man, we've gathered, so we've added our promise not to mention your input unless you expressively allow us to."

He nodded gravely. So far, so good. The right of final decision, and privacy, was most important.

"Is there anything else you would like?" Cate asked.

"I do not think so. I shall review this today, and send it back to you signed. Should I think of something else, you will know."

"Very well," Dani said, getting up. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Erik. I have long been an admirer of your talent, and I sure hope we will work together for a long, long time."

He held out his hand.

Erik looked at it, wary, but grasped it firmly.

Then Cate shook his hand as well.

"A real pleasure, Erik. Maybe we could meet another time to discuss the park in person, and not through these notes, if you'd like."

"I will consider it."

She nodded, and then the two were gone, leaving the contract on the desk.

"It went well," Manu commented. "Thank you for being here, and congratulations!"

"Thank you," he whispered back. "I shall be going as well."

"Of course. Have a nice day, Erik. And don't hesitate to come back to my office. I will always be glad to hear what you have to say."

Erik nodded, and in a flash, was gone, contract in hand.

Manu laughed.

He returned home to examine the contract. When he couldn't find any faults, he signed it and sent it back by email to Manu. He would know what to do. And then he went down to the basement, and started composing again.

The music wouldn't leave him alone, and this new sense of freedom, of a new start, wouldn't leave him either.

When Christine came back, she found him maskless, as usual, bent on his organ, but for once, he radiated happiness. Calm and serene and excited.

Happy. Really, really happy.

"What has you in such a good mood, my love?" she asked as she hugged him and he kissed her hair.

"I have a new job."

She drew back, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I have revealed myself to the directors. Cate and Dani. They offered me a contract. A real one."

Her jaw dropped, and tears of happiness went down her cheeks.

"You didn't… Of my goodness, Erik, this is amazing!"

She threw herself in his arms, kissing him deeply.

"We need to celebrate! Oh, my love, I am so, so proud of you… Now, tell me everything!"

And so he did.


	20. 20 - The 25th Anniversary

_Thank you for being here, my dear readers! This had to be one of my favorite chapters to write. I can only advise you to look up the show "Disney Illuminations" on youtube, if you haven't seen it, so that you have a better idea of what I'm talking about. If you don't, well. Hopefully this will make you want to ;) Enjoy reading!_

*-* The 25th Anniversary

There they were, on the roof of Main Street, for the premiere of the new night show. He'd refused, completely and categorically, to spoil her with designs and music and pictures. It was to be completely new to her.

She'd been watching the new Starlit Princess Waltz, delighting in the new costumes, and with a secret wish to re-enact one special moment with him.

The other afternoon show, celebrating every land of the park, had been a nice touch, as well. She'd watched the parade, and the new floats, hoping that one day she would get to ride in the small carriage with him, or drive the fire-breathing dragon one.

And tonight, at the end of a long day, full of emotions, she'd been asked to perform one song, as a guest of honor.

In a beautiful gown, designed for the occasion, highlighting the soft reddish in her brown curls, she'd walked up on the stage, with him sat down at the piano, in his Darth Vader mask, and a stylish black suit.

And she'd started to sing. He'd refused to sing with her, feeling he would raise too many questions. Being a consultant was fine, being her pianist was fine, but singing, performing with his real voice that people could recognize, was a different thing altogether. The choice of the song had been a difficult one. After all, what could provide the best starting point for the night show, and yet showcase her voice and please the crowds?

Finally, after long weeks of doubts and hesitation, they'd settled on one. It was a new one, which they'd composed together. Speaking of love, keeping hope, a beauty beyond appearances. Letting go of their fears and past hurts, and finding new reasons to go on, and create. Simply put, it showcased their love story, and she had written the lyrics, and he'd helped her add the accompaniment on the piano. There would be a more orchestral version, of course, but this simple arrangement might be her favorite. Just her voice and his piano. Together, as they'd once started to create music.

She sang, and for the first time, in front of an audience who did not know what to expect. She'd seen the tears on their faces, heard their hearts beat to a song they did not quite understand, but feeling moved nonetheless. She'd sung with all of her own, her passion and hope and past pain, until her own tears fell down her cheeks. When she finally went silent, with one low note suspended in the air, resonating with the mic she wore, in front of the castle she loved more than anyplace else in the whole world, the crowd was silent, everyone stood still, not even a baby's cry filling the void. Just the water of the moats and waterfalls nearby, the music from the distant lands echoing softly. And then it was a raging applause. From all around her, in every direction, the crowd stood and cheered. She bowed, once, twice, facing each side of the guests who'd come to listen to her, and witness the start of the Anniversary.

Finally, it seemed, the cheers lessened, the speaker dismissed her, and made her way backstage, hand in hand with her dearest teacher, lover, and friend, to the place where they would witness his latest show.

And a tribute, unknown to everyone else, to her and their love.

So she sat down in his arms, on this warm evening of March, holding him to her, her ears still ringing from the crowd's applause.

"It was all for us," she whispered to him. "Our art."

"Yes. And now, here we are."

His heart beat fast, as it usually did before every premiere. Now it was even more precious to him: she was there, paying special attention to it. And it was with her in mind that he'd designed it.

The speaker started.

_Disney Illuminations._

The very name had come from their love. The way she'd illuminated his dark nights. The way their love had both awakened them. Brought them back to life and light.

_"__Within each of us, is a dreamer, just waiting to be awakened. We all have the magic, to unlock this inner child. But sometimes, that inner child needs an invitation, to come out and play. This, is your invitation to dream."_

And then the fireworks started. The music soared, powerful and vibrant, and the lyrics he'd come to adore came out.

_"__A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep"._

Dreams he now had plenty of, thanks to her, and fortune was smiling to him. The tide had turned.

It began with the Lion King. Symbol of rebirth, of retaking his life. Their life. The circle, life, and death, together. Never one without the other.

And then it changed to "_Can you feel the love tonight_". He could certainly feel it tonight, from the way she grasped his hand, caressed his skin, her breathing slow and deep, and yet her pulse betrayed her emotions. She was crying, desperately fighting the blur in her eyes, not to lose a single moment of the images and pictures in front of her.

It was so beautiful. Perfect.

_"__In perfect harmony, with all its living things"._

She certainly felt harmony with the world, at the moment.

Next came, of course, the Little Mermaid. It was fitting, to sing of his wish to go outside, never being able to be accepted in the world of humans, and what had also united them, his name, and her reddish hair, and her voice, entrancing him.

_"Comme j'aimerais, si je pouvais! __Partir là-bas… »._

In French, as he had to, sometimes, to please the crowd of the country he was born in, had left for a time, and returned to after his various travels. Here, in this park where all cultures and languages met, he'd found some peace.

Then there were various crowd pleasers he'd let others add for him, Finding Nemo, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Star Wars. He didn't care a lot for either of them. But between them, was another part he'd insisted in.

Beauty and the Beast. With a new song from the movie that had come out just in time.

_What if she is the one to break the spell?_

She had broken the spell on his loneliness, and in return, he'd helped her to face her fears and brought back hope to hers as well.

_"__How does a moment last forever?"_

It seemed fitting, too, more than the old songs. Talking about "_Never easy, but we try." "Still our song lives on_". He had to choose the right lyrics, and listening to it now, he felt a surge of frustration. The incapables at the recording studios had missed the key phrase he'd wanted: "_When the shadows overtake us, just when we feel all hope is gone, we'll hear our song and know once more, our love lives on". "love lives on inside our hearts, and always wins"._

He felt her shiver, despite the missing lyrics, and he knew he'd succeeded in telling the right story.

Their song would live on, despite the odds they'd faced.

She squeezed his hand tight, and the tears she'd tried so hard to fight had come down on her cheeks, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She would die, here and there.

A whole show, a love letter, for her, and her alone, telling their story.

Then, to end it, Frozen, with her song, the one she'd sung so many times at this point, she nearly considered it hers. And the small part changing a bit, with their duet. Matching her incessant tries to unmask him, his own fears trapping him in his own ice castle beneath the park. And then, the end, resonating once again: with a very simple, and honest and sincere "Because I love you".

Her smile was hurting her muscles, at this point.

But he whispered, as she was turning to look at him:

"It's not over. Watch the finale!"

And so she looked.

And her breath was stolen.

The music from the beginning was back, even more powerful, pointing to scenes from their favorite movies. Love and life, and hope, all mixed with the fireworks. And then it grew, nearly unbearable in its intensity, blinding with all the lights.

An explosion of colors and lights and music, in a crescendo, ending perfectly. With a last ringing firework.

Once more, the applause was deafening. And she applauded him, again.

"I loved the Dreams, you know that. But this… This was perfect."

She turned, and kissed him, not caring that she took the mask off, she wanted to thank him, for this beautiful, amazing, extraordinary tribute.

His love for her had been obvious, shining in every lyric, every note, and so carefully designed, each scene a new chapter of their story.

And it was far from over.

The ending song started then, an old princess one she'd already heard, again a tribute to all the love stories she'd watched as a child, and hoped to make them her own, as well.

Their time had now come.


	21. 21 - Masquerade

_So, here's our second-to-last chapter! Thank you for reading, following, commenting, and I'm really grateful you enjoy it!_

*-* Masquerade

It had come. The day of the ceremony of the awards to the Cast Members, for their years of service. It was already Christine's ten-year mark. Before Guest Flow, she'd done some rides and some waitresses jobs, and of course, her very latest, performer in the shows. Erik would also be celebrating his 25th year of work, but he wouldn't be there.

"Erik, darling. The theme is masquerade! You'll be able to attend and no one would have anything to say."

"I can't. It's too soon."

"You're ready. I know you are. You've made great efforts these past few months, and this your chance to shine as well, to show them who they have to thank for most of the good things that have happened in the park. And with the masks, you won't even have to be afraid of the rest. Why don't you give it a chance? Not for me, but for yourself? You deserve it, Erik."

But he was adamant. He wouldn't be going. Working as a consultant, behind the scenes, was different to showing himself in front of a crowd. There would be pictures taken. Articles written. His role had remained a secret, and that would change everything.

She sighed, and set out to prepare her own costume and mask.

"I'm going to perform, you know. That night. They've asked me, and I said yes."

"Of course you did."

"Won't you come and see me?"

"I…"

"I know you want to. You risk nothing. You can be invisible, as you were before. Come and be with me, please."

He said nothing, but she felt she'd made a point. If there was one thing he was partial to, it was her singing. He couldn't resist the appeal of hearing her, whenever it was.

And if he had to brave a crowd to listen to her, for there were no hidden corners in the new Arena where they held such events, despite his tries to make a few, he would do it.

* * *

It was the day of the masquerade. Meg was there, as well. It was her ten-year Disneyversary too, and they would be able to celebrate it together. So of course, Christine had gone to Meg's home to prepare herself. Since he wasn't coming, there wasn't any point in staying with him for this. And she'd missed such a simple, friendly outing. She hadn't done this in years, prepping herself with her friend, anxious over make up, dresses and hairstyles.

But as they laughed and smiled and made grimaces in front of the mirror of her bathroom, she felt another kind of freedom coming back to her. And by the gods, it felt _so_ good.

Meg's costume was an angel's, all white and wings and fluffy. Airy and light and beautiful, her mask only covering her eyes. Christine had been a bit more classical, coming back to the origins of the tradition: a Venetian dress and mask, in shades of red, white and gold. She'd had help from her new friends at the costume department, and they had worked well: the dress was beautiful. A modern twist on an otherwise old style dress. And she'd donned a hand supported mask, all black.

Together, they left her home and took Meg's car to the parking reserved for the party.

She'd seen the Arena on many occasions, by now, but this time they'd outdone themselves. As they entered the party, they were photographed and saluted by the ambassadors and the CEO, Cate herself.

"What a joy to have you both here," she said. "Christine, isn't it? I have heard of your successes in our entertainment pole. We're blessed to have such talented Cast Members. Thank you!"

They shook hands, and then she told a bit of the same to Meg. Then they took their places in the dimly lit room, all little tables of four scattered around the room, facing a large stage.

They took their seats. Raoul had come and took one as well, as a personal guest of Meg's, while another remained empty. Christine's heart beat a bit faster when she saw it, but she dismissed it. After all, the party had barely begun, and some Cast Members were notorious for being late, despite many, many years of work.

Christine hugged her friend, complimenting his fine costume and how handsome he looked. He was an old soldier, in black and gold, and together with Meg, they made a very pretty couple. Meg was giggling as they held hands over the table, and Christine felt a small pang of jealousy. What she wouldn't give for her own partner to be with her tonight…

Slowly, the room filled with people in costumes, masked and happy to be here. Finally, at 8:30, the ceremony began. Cate took the stage, and began thanking them again for their long years of service.

"Now, tonight, as we honor you, my dear Cast Members, who are the soul and heart of the park, there are two special people I want to shed light on. Please welcome on stage Miss Christine Daaé!"

A spotlight she hadn't noticed fell on her, nearly blinding her, and she made her way to the stage under the sound of applause, trying not to fall. Up the stairs she went, and grasped Cate's hands again.

"Ten years she had devoted to our dear park, from the very moment she turned 18. She has gone from position to position, in Food, Merch, Operations, and very lately, in Entertainment."

Further applause.

"You have enjoyed a great success in that position. So, as a favor to all the people here, who might not get to hear you and watch you perform, could you please sing us a song?"

That part she had rehearsed for and was ready. And yet, it was different again. She knew these people. Some of them she had worked alongside for months, or even years, and she'd never shown anyone that side of her, always keeping it safely locked inside of her.

But tonight, she would share her gift and her emotions with the world.

The piano started behind her, and as she looked, she found the face she most wanted to see. He was there. Hiding, of course, but he had come, nonetheless. And this time, he'd outdone himself, theatrical man he was. All in red, with a real Skull as his face, fluffy hat and puffy sleeves.

She smiled, her heart stilled, and she started to sing.

As usual, the piano guided her, complimented her, wove its magic around her voice. And she sang back, sang with it, letting her love for the park, her gratitude and respect for her fellow cast members who had helped her be there, and most of all, to him. Her friend, her lover, her partner in all things. And in music.

She let her voice grow, her emotions visible to all as she fully turned to him, willing the crowd to see him, to notice him. To care about him, this man they owed so much to.

And as the song drew to a close, she went silent, the others holding their breaths. Silent tears on their cheeks, again.

Then they cheered. Again, and again, as she bowed, for once no tears in her eyes. Instead, at the end, she made her way to him, before he could leave, and took his hand, bringing him back in front of the crowd. He didn't seem to know what to do, his hand trembling in hers, but he held his ground, proud and dramatic.

Cate was back next to her, and she spoke when she could be heard again.

"Thank you so very much, Christine!" she said, drying a missing tear from her eyes. "That was exquisite! Now, we have someone else to honor, tonight. He has been a very private man, working in the shadows and never fully appreciated for the work he did for the park, but he has been willing to come tonight, to share another of his gifts for us. Please, applaud our beloved Phantom, Mr Erik Garnier!"

And Erik watched the crowd stand to their feet, as they applauded him. Cate went down the stage, to give the mic to a young woman, on the left.

"When I was in bad place, mentally, exhausted by what I had to do, you gave me… Something. Told me I mattered. And… I wanted to thank you. Because I'm celebrating 5 years here, thanks to you."

Erik stilled, his heart frozen. He remembered her, this young cast member from the Videopolis food department. Always had a nice word and a smile for the guests, and he'd wanted to help her.

Cate went to another man in his thirties.

"Ten years ago, I arrived from Venezuela. I was far from my family, alone, and didn't speak English or French very well. It was… Difficult for me. But you saw me. Left a note in Spanish, telling me I was needed here. With books on languages. I worked, and stayed. And now I created my own family here. Thanks to you."

Other witnesses came and spoke of what his small gifts had done, for them, and Erik was glad for the mask, because he broke down, unable to stop the tears. Christine was by his side, holding him against her, her hand his only support to stop him from falling to his knees, overwhelmed by the depth of what he was feeling.

Finally.

They noticed him.

They cared for him.

They appreciated him.

It seemed most of the people here had something to share, and so he would share something else with them. Another, last gift.

He started to sing. In very much the same way as she had done, he sang his thanks. That was the only way his voice would work, tonight, despite the tears in his throat, how full his heart felt.

And when he stopped, the room held their breath. Then they applauded once more.

Cate came back up, holding a little velvet box.

"From the company, I would like to give you this. A special pin, an award for the most special of our cast members. I am very honored to make you a recipient of the Legacy Award. May you work with us for many more years!"

Christine opened the box, to reveal a special blue nametag, and pinned it on his chest, pride and warmth and love in her heart, so full she would burst.

Finally, when everyone, it seemed, had shed a few more tears, they stepped off the stage, back to their little corner, hidden by the masks, and the party started anew. Other people took the stage, to receive other tokens of appreciation. And they ate and had other speeches, from other people of the company. As the evening went on, the stage was cleared, and a dance floor appeared, soft music replacing the talks.

Meg was one of the first to go there, bringing Raoul with her. Christine stayed, watching them with a warm eye. And yet, envy came back. Erik was there, though, with her. What did it matter if he wouldn't dance with her, there?

He noticed her wistful eye, on the young couples, and while part of him mistook it for longing for another, the rational part of him told him what she really wanted.

And he wanted to make her happy. He'd trusted her, to come and share his art and music and passion and it had worked, hadn't it? So… He owed her this. And for once, here, in this masquerade, they could be just like any other couple. Any other pair in love.

So he stood, and kneeled in front of her, offering her his hand.

"Would you like to dance, my dear?"

She grasped it in both of her hands, smiling prettily under her lovely mask.

"I would love to."

He led her to the dancing floor, and let the music sweep them away. How had they never done this, he couldn't understand, and so couldn't she. The proximity of their bodies, waltzing to the music, the scents and sounds and looks all around them, it was overwhelming, but in a good way. His hand on her waist, so very formal, and yet whispering of other times where that hand had been there. His heart beating against hers, as he led her expertly across the floor. The feel of her dress accompanying her every movement.

It was like another dream coming true.

They danced and danced until the party ended, and then they danced some more on the walk back home, two young souls waltzing under the moonlight.

Taking their masks off, in the safety of their home, they held each other, drunk on the music and the love they had both felt and shared that evening.

"Thank you," he whispered in the darkness of their bedroom. "For everything, my dear."

* * *

_I must say, this chapter had me a bit tearing up. The end is coming, dear readers! But I hope you will find it satisfying =)_


	22. 22 - Life Goes On and On

_So here is the end. I hope you enjoy this ending, and the whole fic =) Thank you again for reading, and commenting, you really made my days brighter!_

* * *

*-* Life goes on and on

Life went on. She starred in shows, composed music by his side, and he was designing the future of their beloved park. Now in the spotlight, as she was, officially recognized as one of the reasons of the park's success. Still, he went hiding to see who did and didn't do their jobs well, but he had the backing and trust of the management and direction, and his opinion never went unrecognized anymore.

Together, they planned and shared in the joy of the life in their park. She was the one who convinced them to renew the Princess and Pirate Festival, having seen with her own eyes how loved that season had been for the fans.

Sometimes, she starred as Betty Rose, and even the most hardcore pirates fans went to the other side to sing with her. There was an energy in these shows, in spring, that she'd never seen before.

And at the end of that season, as she got off that beautiful, huge float, he was there. In the mask that she'd come to expect when he was outside, tall and threatening as Darth Vader, no one caring to approach him.

To celebrate the ending of the season.

They had dinner, a lovely affair, by the Auberge de Cendrillon, in front of the carriage, outside. No one there to disturb them. And then he took her by the hand, to the Castle. As usual, she was loving the architecture, the intricate details of the stones and the lights, and the Tchaikovsky music around them. Up the stairs they went, and he accompanied her along the Galerie. As usual, the stained glasses took her breath away, how carefully they'd been designed and made, the tapestries, and at the end, the lovely fountain with Aurora and her Prince, dancing, forever. They went outside, by the balcony, and savored the view of the back of Fantasyland, that all Guests had access to, and then around, by a door only the fire crew could pass, to go to the front of the castle.

They had a splendid view of the Hub, where she had helped countless Dreams shows, and now Illuminations shows as well, when she wasn't parading in the Princess and Pirate Float as Betty Rose. And on the back, the Disneyland Hotel, shining with all the lights in the night sky. Not a single one was ill-working, thanks to his diligence in monitoring which were functioning or not. He had an eagle's eye for these matters. And now, she could see it all, in the distance.

She sighed, tears of joy and love in her eyes. The adoration she felt for this place had only just began to retreat faced with the love for her Maestro, her Angel, but still. When she saw that, the lights of Space Mountain and the fiery waters of the pits leading to Discoveryland, and on the other side the top of Big Thunder Mountain, missing his usual noise when it was working. The music of Main Street, the one she knew by heart, full of memories, warmed her heart.

"When I see this," she quietly whispered, leaning against his chest, hand in hers, "I'm always hit by how much, how very dear this is all to me. It's silly, isn't it? To feel so much for a place that's all been built for the entertainment, but… It has meaning.

"Of course it does. You know I feel the same, dearest."

He turned her around, and took off his mask.

"Once, there was only darkness in my life. When I went here, I thought I had found a purpose in my life, and I threw myself in it, but it wasn't enough. And then, you came into my life. You brought back the light in my eyes, the hope in my heart, you made me _dream_ again. I was just an ugly man, without hopes or dreams, but you made me live again. Thanks to you, I feel like I'm reborn, anew, in the world. For once, I am more than my ugly face and body."

He kneeled in front of her, her hands in his, and went on, his eyes intense and shining bright fixed on hers.

"You gave me your voice, and your trust, and as long as I live, I will strive to be worthy of that trust. Of your love. My dear Christine, I love you more than I have ever believed I could. Would you allow me the greatest honor of marrying me?

He pulled out a box, from seemingly nowhere, a trick of hand he was fond of, and opened it, to reveal the bright glow of a ring. Her vision was becoming blurry, but she held on, to see what he was offering her, to meet his eyes. She hadn't had to think, as she nodded, her voice thick with emotions and the tears she suppressed shakily.

"Of course I will," she assured him, holding out her hand.

His face transformed, beaming at her so radiantly as he put the ring on her finger, and got up to kiss her.

It was soft and demanding, urgent and loving, a combination of all they were, had been, and would be. What the future held for them, they didn't know, but as long as they were together, nothing mattered. They would pull through, the dreamer and the singer, in this most happiest of places.

_The End._

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_I hope it wasn't too short, but I felt it was right to end it here. Still, I'm not saying no to a sequel, so stay tuned, you'll be sure to know if and when that happens. I may have something else in the makings, as well, if you're interested in this pairing and a different story._

_I'm really, really grateful to all of you who read this story, and appreciated it!_


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